Witchcraft and Wizardry
by Naralanis
Summary: A new take on Rowling's masterpiece, from Harry's first visit to Diagon Alley, where he meets someone who will have a great impact in his life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . Mostly canon, but I have created and introduced a new major character. I OWN NOTHING.
1. Chapter 1

Harry was still flabbergasted at every little thing surrounding him in the bustling Alley. Every turn of his head found something new for his eyes to feast upon, a little something or detail completely out of his know ordinary that seemed perfectly mundane to everyone else. Little explosions, a variety of objects and animals zooming through the air, changing colours and strange noises made up a stir crazy composition that made it impossible to maintain focus on one detail alone other than for a short period of time. It was hard enough keeping up with Hagrid, whose each step was equivalent to four of his own, without pausing to admire one thing or another.

Hagrid, however, seemed oblivious to the boy's utter amazement. He looked attentively at the supply list, written in green lettering on a thick piece of parchment. A thoughtful expression furrowed his furry brows before a smile lit up his bearded features. He stopped abruptly, causing Harry to collide with his enormous form in a muffled halt, almost dropping his boxes of school supplies in his hands. Unmoved, the giant spun around on his boot heels to face Harry.

-Harry, I have an idea. All thas leff is ta git yer wand. Ollivander's is jus 'round the corner- he pointed- best place ta git one. Yeh can go 'n buy yers, and I'll meet ye there. I'f got some quick business ta attend to.

He left without another word, leaving Harry to process what had just been said in the middle of the crowd. He glanced at the shop Hagrid had pointed at, easily identifying it with its big, golden letters at the front.

By now he had a good idea of what wands were used for, it was pretty self-explanatory. Hagrid had told him he would need one in order to practice magic at Hogwarts, but how did he go about buying one? Would he just take his pick, pay, then be on his way? Would he need to test it first, see if he could do some magic? Panic began to arise at that particular thought. What if he couldn't do anything? What if it was all a huge mistake, and he was no wizard after all,would he have to go back to the Dursleys? He shuddered. Perhaps it would be better to just wait for Hagrid to return and go buy it with him. Harry felt a little ashamed at this thought, not wanting to be a nuisance, since Hagrid had specifically asked him to go.

He had stood there for quite a while now, mulling over what to do. Some people were staring at the boy who was as still as a statue in the middle of the street, wondering what on Earth he was doing, others grumbling for him to get out of their way. Finally deciding to get a move on, Harry walked quickly to the shop, pushing the door open with his foot, since his hands were laden with his supplies, and a bell sounded when he entered.

It took awhile for him to get used to the room, which was very dimly lit despite having two big windows at the front. The air seemed smoky, and it appeared there was no one there. The shop stretched itself inwards almost indefinitely, with countless shelves that carried numerous boxes that seemed to be arranged in no particular order. There was a counter with more boxes on top, a vase of flowers and a lamp, seemingly the only other source of light in the shop. Harry looked around a little more, finding only more and more narrow boxes in every corner of the place.

-If you're looking for Mr. Ollivander, he'll be back in a few.

The voice came out of nowhere, and startled Harry so much he dropped a few boxes from his own stack on the floor with a loud noise. Feeling like a fool, he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He finally saw the voice had come from a girl leaning against the wall on the side of the door he had just come from, but who had been shielded from his initial field of view as he opened it.

She chuckled, and he knew his cheeks were red with embarrassment. Harry stood, awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to do. Before he could decide on some course of action, the girl took a few steps toward him and bent down, picking up his boxes, setting them neatly on his arms. He smiled sheepishly, muttering "thanks", while she looked at him intently and smiled. She had the bluest eyes Harry had ever seen, but they were of a darker blue than normal, deep and calm. She glanced at a bench on the other side of the door, and he walked over it, setting his pile on it, glad for the long-wished rest his arms needed. Harry looked around, and, without anything else to do, shoved his hands deep into his gigantic pockets and stared at his feet.

-So you're also coming to Hogwarts then?

Harry was once again startled by the girl's voice. He nodded,

-But how do you-

She interrupted by simply pointing towards his top boxes, the ones she had picked up from the floor, which were labeled: "Mme. Malkins: 1st Year Hogwarts Black Robes- Male, size 36". Of course.

-I'm also a first year- she said nonchalantly. She offered her hand.

-I'm Alice. And you are?

Harry eventually took his right hand out of the confines of his pocket and shook hers gently, introducing himself as Harry. Just Harry. She seemed nice, he thought.

-So you're here to buy a wand, then?- he started, and almost immediately berated himself, feeling a little stupid. What else would someone do at a wand shop? Very smooth, Potter.

She only chuckled, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil.

-Actually no. I'm inheriting my father's wand, so Mr Ollivanders has to test it out, make sure everything is alright, you know.

Harry did not reply that he did not, in fact, know anything about wands. He did, however, give an honest attempt at an interest smile, which only evoked more chuckles from Alice.

-You don't talk much, do you?

True to her observation, he did not answer her verbally, but responded by shaking his head vigorously from side to side.

-You're indeed very quiet. I bet you'll end up in Ravenclaw.- she smiled.

A Raven-what? Harry wondered what in the world she meant by that. His terribly confused look seemed to be enough to tell her he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. To Harry's utmost surprise, however, she was the one who began to look embarrassed. A blush crept up to her cheeks, giving them a rosy tinge and making her blue eyes almost purple, curiously.

-Oh, I'm so sorry! I forget that some of us have no idea how Hogwarts works! You grew up with Muggles, right? I'm sorry, I did not realize.

She did not seem to be saying it with any contempt, she merely looked extremely embarrassed, and somewhat uncomfortable.

-S'alright- Harry found himself muttering. This seemed to calm her a bit, but he was still confused.

-But... If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is a Ravenclaw?

-Oh- she said- it's one of Hogwarts' Houses.

He was still very much confused, but that was all the encouragement she needed.

-Once we get to Hogwarts, all of the first years will be sorted into four Houses: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Every house is like your family until you finish school. Every time we do something good, such as getting stuff right in class or some sort of service to the school, we are awarded House points. If we do bad things, such as breaking rules, we lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most point wins the House Cup!

Alice seemed to get more and more excited as she spoke, getting to the point in which a dreamy expression graced her face. Harry still didn't quite understand every detail of what she was saying, but he thought he had gotten the gist of it, which apparently was that the students would be divided into groups once they arrived at the school.

-But how are we sorted? I mean, is it random?  
-Well, not exactly. The Sorting Hat will sort you into a House depending on how your personality matches the character of the House. Slytherin, for example, is the House of Cunning.

Harry was still confused, but the confusion was joined by a feeling of panic in his gut. What if he was not fit to be in any of the Houses?

- What if someone is not sorted into any House?

He had not meant to voice his fears aloud, but they were out before he could help it. Alice however, seemed to understand.

-Don't worry. That has never happened in history, and Hogwarts is over a thousand years old, you know. You'll fit into one, have no doubt of that. Besides Slytherin, there's Gryffindor, the House of Bravery, Ravenclaw, the House of Wisdom, and Hufflepuff, House of... I think it's Loyalty, but they are generally very good with plants too- she chuckled, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. Harry did not mind, and found himself appreciating her effort. If nothing else, he thought, his summers of weeding the garden at the Dursleys would yet bear fruit.

The pair fell into silence for a few more moments, until they heard someone shuffling at the back of the shop. A hunched-over, frail looking old man appeared, carrying a rather long and narrow black box. He seemed to ignore Harry for the moment, directing himself to Alice alone.

-Here you are, Miss Silivasi. It is all in order. Take proper care of it, and it shall yet serve generations to come.

Alice murmured a "thank you"and took the offered box with a look that resembled veneration. She clutched it tightly against her chest, then turned to Harry.

-I have to go now. I guess I'll see you at the Platform- she offered her hand again, and Harry took it.

-It was nice talking to you- he said.

She smiled and turned to the door. Before she was out, she did a double take and looked at Harry again.

-Feel free to owl me anytime!

And she was gone.

Harry had no time to wonder what on Earth she could have meant. Owl? He could only ponder for a mere second, before the hunched over old man turned to him with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

-Mr. Potter, I presume.

Harry only nodded in awe, presuming this to be Mr. Ollivander. The man shuffled back to one of his numerous stacked shelves while tutting to himself quietly.

-It feels like it was yesterday- he said, while taking seemingly random boxes from the shelves into his arms -that your mother and father came here to buy their own wands.

At this he turned back to Harry, and gave him another of his kind smiles. Ollivander set his boxes atop the counter and picked one up. He opened it very carefully, producing from its velvety interior a polished wooden stick with an intricately carved handle, and then handed it to Harry, with a solemn look on his face. Harry grabbed it by the handle, admiring the minute details of the carvings. The boy stood awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to do with it, simply holding it up in the air. Ollivander raised one of his eyebrows.

-Well, go on, give it a wave!

Harry did as he was asked to, feeling incredibly silly. He gave the wand a swift downward motion, not entirely sure of what to expect.

Out of nowhere, the flower vase that sat on the counter exploded into a million tiny pieces, which flew all over the room, bouncing off the walls behind him. Rags of petals slowly drifted to the now soaked flooring in the aftermath. This unexpected result was enough to scare Harry out of his wits, but Ollivander merely clicked his tongue loudly and remarked.

-No, not that one.

Ollivander continued to bring boxes and more boxes for Harry to try out wand after wand over the course of the hour. They were of varied lengths and materials, and Ollivander would often murmur comments such as "maple and unicorn hair, eleven inches, very flexible". Sometimes he would not say anything at all, choosing instead to just stare at Harry expectantly while the boy tried out another one.

Harry, however, was beginning to lose any hope that he might have harboured initially. A load of open boxes laid tossed against the counter and around the shop in general, wands poking out. Ollivander remained unwavering, bringing more and more wands at a rate that had Harry concerned about the shop's well-being. So far he had managed to explode the flower vase twice after it had already been repaired by Ollivander's precise but nonchalant movements, shatter the windows a few more times, splint the doors, get the stacks of wands in the shelves in utter and complete chaos, and, lastly, deprive Ollivander of his eyebrows no less than three times. Some wands, however, had absolutely no effect at all, and the elderly shopkeeper grabbed them away from the boy tutting. The store itself was almost in shambles, and Harry felt horrible for it.

They had just gone through yet another wand, "cherry, fourteen inches, dragon heartstring, very rigid", which, thankfully, did not cause any more disorder, but did let out a little smoke. Ollivander was back to rummaging his shelves almost as soon as the smoke appeared. Harry had begun to wonder how they would know which wand would be right for him, but assumed Ollivander would have at least an idea.

The old man shuffled back to his side, taking the unsuitable wand and discarding it on the pile of wands that had gathered near his counter. He looked at the box he now held in his frail hands, a black one with green velvety lining. His face turned solemn before he turned to Harry and muttered under his breath "why not?", handing him the wand from within. Harry took it from him, a long, darkened wand with another elaborately carved handle. Upon closer look, he discerned some sort of bird etched in the wood of the thicker handle.

Grasping the wand tightly, Harry made to swish it around like he had done countless times so far. As soon as he raised his hand, however, a warm, golden glow surrounded him, and he could feel the wand grow a little hotter in his palm. The glow remained for a few more moments, enveloping him in light, and then suddenly disappeared as mysteriously as it had come.

Harry let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. Somehow, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he knew that that was the wand he was looking for. He could not explain it, he just felt it, and for what seemed to be the first time, he felt complete, a sensation of wholeness overwhelmed him, like he had just found a missing part of himself. Harry glanced at Ollivander, as if looking for confirmation for what he had just experienced, hoping with all his might that he was not merely imagining things. The shopkeeper had his eyes closed and seemed to be once again muttering to himself, in deep thought.

-Curious. Very, very curious.

-Excuse-me- Harry interrupted -What exactly is curious?

Ollivander opened his eyes and cast a meaningful glance at the boy.

-Holly, thirteen inches, not too flexible, with a phoenix tail feather core. I remember every wand I have sold in my entire life, Mr. Potter. It happens that the phoenix that ceded the feather that makes up your wand's core produced another feather. Just one other.

He turned away from Harry and put the wand back in its proper place, nested in the middle crook of the velvet in it. He closed it and handed it to Harry.

-The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter- he continued cryptically. - It is curious that this wand has selected you in particular, because its sister- he paused -gave you that scar on your forehead.

At that moment they were interrupted by loud taps on what was left of the windows. Harry turned around abruptly, somewhat surprised to see Hagrid outside.

-Harry! Happy birthday! -he exclaimed, lifting a cage that contained a beautiful snowy white owl.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Hagrid appeared at Ollivander's, Harry paid his seven-galleon wand and went out to meet the giant.

The day progressed otherwise uneventfully, and by the end of it, Hagrid took Harry aside and shoved a piece of red-colored paper in his hands.

-Well, Harry, I gotta go now. Here's yher ticket, September the 1st, at eleven. Be there!

Harry glanced at the paper he now held in his hands. It was read and had gold lettering.

HOGWARTS EXPRESS

PLATFORM 9 ¾

KING'S CROSS, LONDON

-Hagrid? I think there is a mistake. How is it possible to have a platform 9 ¾?

Harry turned around, but the giant was gone without a trace, as if he had simply evaporated into thin air. More importantly, he found himself smack in the middle of Privett Drive, right in front of the dreaded Number 4, along with all of his belongings, and his new owl, Hedwig.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were not exactly overjoyed to see their freak nephew standing on their impeccable porch, with a cart of odd packages and a live owl entirely visible on their driveway. Much to Harry's surprise, however, there was no screaming nor any promises of severe punishment, nor any kind of violence. There was only a hushed "Come along, boy, get these things out of sight!" from Petunia. Instead of hovering and sending insults and snide remarks in his direction at every opportunity, the Dursleys had apparently adopted a new policy, which consisted mostly of ignoring Harry the best they could. It seemed that they had turned to the thought that if they completely ignored him, he was not actually there.

As strange as it was, the new tactic did not bother Harry in the least. In fact, the way he saw it, it was nothing but a welcome relief, and a definite improvement over their previous treatment. He took everything he had bought at the Alley up to his new room and tore out the packaging. He took quite a bit of time each day organizing and reorganizing everything in his huge trunk, then rearranging it all when he was not entirely satisfied. The amount of things he could fit in there was impressive, but then again, he supposed that was how magic worked. By now, his only worry was how to get to King's Cross come September 1st. Perhaps Uncle Vernon would take him, if he asked very, very nicely. If not, he wondered if Hagrid would come to his rescue once again.

It was on the day before the actual trip that Harry attempted to talk to his uncle about it. Vernon was sitting on one of the armchairs in the living room, reading the day's paper. Harry approached cautiously, but making sure that his steps were heard so as not to startle his uncle into annoyance or anger. it felt a lot like trying to go past a predator, making sure not to disturb him too much.

-Excuse-me, uncle Vernon?

Harry got a grunt for an answer, so he continued, assuming he was being heard.

-I was wondering if you could, ah, drop me off at King's Cross tomorrow morning so I can catch the train to Hog...School

Vernon grunted again, but lowered his newspaper so that his beady little eyes could stare back into Harry's green orbs.

-Boy, if you think for a second we're buying you a ticket to go to that-

-No, no! They already gave me a ticket- Harry interrupted daringly -I only need to get to the station.

Vernon gave one more grumble in the boy's direction and took up his newspaper once again.

-Was that a yes?- Harry dared.

-Might as well. We have to go to London anyway, to get rid of that tail Dudley got- he muttered from behind his paper.

The first morning of September started very early for Harry, who had not been able to lay still for the better part of the night, overwhelmed with sheer anxiety. More than once during the night he woke up and looked at Hedwig in her cage or touched his trunk by his bedside to make sure it was all still there, reassuring himself that everything was indeed real. It was with bags under his eyes, but in relatively high spirits and butterflies in his stomach that Harry loaded his things in the trunk of Uncle Vernon's car with no help from his relatives.

The ride was a strange yet uneventful one. Vernon and Petunia did not say a word during the entire time, and Dudley cowered in his corner of the back seat, whimpering every time Harry so much as glanced his way. Harry was not compelled to say anything either, so it was around ten-thirty that the tomb-silent group arrived at King's Cross.

Once there, Harry barely had time to load his things onto a cart before his uncle sped off, with the car trunk still open. He pushed his cart along the station looking for the platform, occasionally reaching into his shirt pocket, making sure that the ticket Hagrid had given him was still in his possession. He had stared at it for almost a whole hour the night before, willing it to show a platform number that made a minimum of sense, but it was all in vain. Harry looked at the clock in despair after a fruitless search. The train would leave in ten minutes, and he was no nearer to finding the platform. He had asked three guards at the station about the, but it was all in vain, they had merely scoffed about kids playing stupid games.

Harry glanced at the clock for the billionth time. He only had less than ten minutes now, and was beginning to despair. All he had were platforms 9 and 10, followed by the logical 11. Hedwig was attracting quite a bit of attention from the people coming and going from the station, and he was more than a little uncomfortable. He was about to get up, with a feeling of rejection. Maybe this was a sign that he was not meant to go to Hogwarts after all. Maybe only wizards were able to find this mystical platform, and he was not wizard enough to do it. A morose Harry hunched over his cart in utter defeat. It was back to the Dursleys now. A family of redheads passed him walking briskly, obviously in a rush to catch their train.

-It's always the same, every year. Full of Muggles. Come along, boys.

Harry stood up with a start. Was he imagining things? It was as if he had been slapped awake. He looked at the distancing family again. He knew he had heard the word "Muggle", and there was only one kind of people who used that term. Looking at the family again, he noticed they had trunks in their carts, very similar to his own, and a little hope began to grow in his chest. Discreetly, he began pushing his cart in the same direction they were going, towards platforms 9 and 10. His heart sank back a little. Wouldn't they face the same problem he had?

They stopped in front of the two platforms, and the mother turned to the four boys behind her, holding tightly to the hand of a little girl who appeared to be crying.

-You first, Percy, off you go!- she said.

One of the boys, who seemed to be the oldest of the four with red curly hair, started pushing his cart towards the wall between platforms 9 and 10 at a quick pace. Harry started to worry both about the sanity of the redhead and the outcome of his inevitable collision. However, he found with quite some astonishment that his worry was unnecessary. The young man simply continued to walk at the same speed he had begun with, right into the rock-solid brick wall. Harry could not contain his gasp of surprise, and his mouth hung open for a few seconds. He shook his head vigorously, trying to confirm what he had just witnessed. Just for good measure, he blinked his eyes hard, unable to believe what had just happened. The woman turned to other two boys, who were literally identical.

-Your turn Fred.

One of the boys looked frustrated.

-I'm not Fred, I'm George! He's Fred!

-Honestly woman, and you call yourself our mother!

-Oh, I'm sorry George!

They made their way towards her at the same time, while Harry watched, mildly amused.

-Just kidding- the first twin said- I'm Fred!

They grinned and ran towards the wall, as Percy had done. And just like Percy, they were swallowed by the bricks, and Harry was not any less surprised. He could not wrap his mind around what they had just done, and it seemed he was the only one in the station to notice people going through a wall. Before the last of the boys could make his way towards it, Harry tried to grab the woman's attention.

-Excuse-me!- he said. She looked at him, not seemed in the least surprised to see his cart and owl.

-Could you...Uh...Tell me how- he stammered.

-How to get to the platform, dear?- she offered.

Harry nodded, and she gave him a warm smile.

-Oh, don't worry, it's very easy, dear. It's Ron's first year at Hogwarts too- she motioned to the younger boy, who gave a sheepish smile -All you have to do it walk straight into the wall- she patted his shoulder -You can run if you are nervous.

Harry thanked her and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do. Which was to walk through a rock-solid brick wall. No big deal. Although he had witnessed three people so far walking through it as if it didn't even exist, he was still consumed with doubt and the fear of an embarrassing and painful crash. His subconscious screamed at him, telling it was a crazy idea, but before he even realized it, his feet were taking him straight ahead. He was running, which would have resulted in disastrous consequences had his fear been a reality.

Fortunately for Harry, it wasn't Just as the three previous boys had been, he was immediately engulfed by the bricks, being granted passage to... the mysterious platform, it seemed. A bright red locomotive was letting off steam, and dozens, perhaps even hundreds of people were carrying similar trunks. Some were already wearing what he recognized to be the long black school robes. Older students with glistening badges pinned onto their chests were directing younger ones into the train. Kids with owls and cats held onto their pets, and some parents clung to their children in a similar fashion. Right above him, hanging from a pole in the wall, hung a red-and gold plaque.

PLATFORM 9 ¾

HOGWARTS EXPRESS

A sudden wave of relief coursed through Harry's body. This was it. He left his trunk, along with Hedwig, with one of the red-coated attendants in a luggage cart, and then went about finding a cart that wasn't as crowded as the rest. He saw the red-haired family at a short distance, saying their goodbyes. The twins seemed excited about something, and flailed their arms about.

-Mom! You won't believe who's coming to Hogwarts this year! Harry Potter!

Harry blushed, and looked away.

-Do you think he remembers anything about You-Know-Who?

-Oh, George! You will not ask him, you hear? I absolutely forbid it!

Harry felt a great wave of gratitude for the red-haired matron. He glanced at the family again before getting into the train, They seemed to have dropped the subject, and were comforting the young girl, whose eyes were puffy and watery.

-I want to go!- she cried

-Don't worry, Gin...

-We will...

-Send you a souvenir!

-A toilet lid straight from Hogwarts!

The mother rolled her eyes and berated the twins, then rushed all of the boys into the train. Harry entered and walked along the long locomotive, trying to find an empty compartment. He felt a little too shy to go to an already partly full one. He silently wondered if he would see Alice, the girl from the wand shop before arriving. He pondered looking for her and asking to sit with her, but quickly dismissed the idea. She was just being nice, and probably didn't even remember him.

There were still a few empty compartments left near the end of the train. Without being picky, Harry entered the first one that seemed available.

All Harry had with him was his rucksack, which contained his school robes. He silently praised himself for the idea, for it would have been quite odd to waltz into King's Cross wearing the long, black, flowy school robes. He had noticed that many of the students were wearing, if not entirely Muggle, at least some discreet clothing. Unceremoniously, he dropped his bag on the bench and flopped himself down on the one opposite. There it was again, a feeling of anticipation coupled with a not-so-healthy dose of anxiety. His hands were a little sweaty. A small part of him was still afraid that he would wake up back in his cupboard with Petunia's shrieks and Dudley's elephant steps making the dust cascade on him. Harry looked out of the window and heard the thrill of the whistle announcing the train's departure. There were now only parents and some younger children at the platform, some smiling, some in tears. He felt a pang of jealousy as he glanced around his empty compartment.

The train had been going for a few minutes when Harry heard his compartment's door slide open, revealing the youngest boy of the family he had seen before, whose name had been mentioned but that he failed to remember. He was carrying an old-looking rat, and looked at Harry. A look of recognition came upon his face.

-Oh, hullo there! Mind if I sit with you? All the other compartments are full, and I got tired of sitting with my brothers.

-Of course not -said Harry, motioning towards the empty seat facing his own.

The boy smiled and sat himself down before introducing himself.

-I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley.

-Nice to meet you. I'm Harry, Harry Potter.

Ron's eyes suddenly turned to the size of saucers, and his jaw slacked open in amazement.

-Y-y-you mean... You're HIM? You're THE Harry Potter?! -he stammered.

Harry suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and the twin's question back at the platform nagged his mind.

-That's me- he answered, looking at his hands and shifting in his seat.

Ron also looked a bit uncomfortable, but there was the unmistakable glint of curiosity in his eyes.

-This is probably rude of me to ask... But do you have...You know... The scar?

With a sigh, Harry brushed his wild hair back, exposing the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. He heard Ron gasp before exclaiming:

-Wicked!

When he looked back at the ginger, he noticed the fascinated expression on his face.

They remained uncomfortable for the remainder of the time, and conversation was scarce and strained, consisting mostly of Ron's observations on the weather. A few knocks on the door preceded its sliding open once again, and the face of an amiable-looking old lady appeared, wearing a wide smile.

-Anything from the trolley, dears?

-No, thanks -said Ron, raising from his pocket what seemed to be a packed (and slightly mashed) sandwich -I'm all set.

Harry was reminded of the leftover coins he had from his trip to Diagon Alley clinking in his pockets. He took them all out and offered them to the trolley lady.

-I want some of each.

It turned out that Harry's perception of wizard money was entirely out of proportion, so he ended up buying more than half of the trolley's content of unfamiliar and particularly odd sweets and candies. He was flooded with colorful and shiny wrappers and boxes of varying sizes. Some seemed to be pretty ordinary, such as a normal chocolate bar, but most had bizarre names and shapes, such as "Blood Pops", "Jelly Slugs", "Fizzing Whizzbees" and "Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans". Harry dug into some of the normal-looking candies first, such as Pumpkin Pasty that seemed to look pretty safe. He spared a quick glance at Ron, who was having difficulty unwrapping whatever it was that he had packed from home. Their eyes met and Ron shrugged.

-She always forgets that I hate corned beef. Who can blame her, with so many kids- he muttered.

Harry took a look around his sugary cornucopia.

-Well -he said, gesturing the vicinity of his seat, which was replete with sweets -You don't really expect me to eat all of this by myself, do you?


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is a little (erm, a lot) shorter than the previous two, but I didn't want to add more stuff to it. The next one will be longer. It has been brought to my attention that my previous method of marking dialogue was distracting, so I went back and changed it for this chapter. Also, I don't want this story to progress too rapidly, and I'm not substituting the Golden Trio with Harry + Alice. She's more like an addition to their group, and my plan is to make her fit into situations in the books instead of creating entirely new ones. But I can't guarantee that my imagination won't run wild. Thanks, and enjoy!**

To say that Ron was ecstatic with Harry's offer was certainly a gross misunderstanding. At the moment, both boys were extremely busy unwrapping all sorts of delicious candies at a remarkable pace. There was little talking, mostly due to the over-stuffing of their mouths most of the time. Ron, however, had both the opportunity and the delight to enlighten Harry on the wonders of wizard confectionery, a subject in which he seemed to be an expert. Harry was enchanted with the skipping Chocolate Frogs and had grown fond of Licorice Wands and Sugar Quills, but seemed to have miserable luck at selecting the good picks of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Ron assured him that there was quite the wide selection of good-tasting ones, a fact that Harry had yet to prove, but was understandably reluctant to, especially with his tirade of vomit flavoured beans. Despite that, Harry was having fun, more fun that he had ever had in his life. He learned that Ron had five older brothers, two of which were already out of Hogwarts, and one younger sister, the one who would be soon receiving an "authentic Hogwarts toilet lid" in the mail. A red-faced Ron admitted that, despite his father working for the Ministry of Magic, they did not have a lot of money. He had grumbled with a full mouth about having to wear old robes, having an old rat, and using an old wand. Although the ginger seemed very embarrassed, this did not bother Harry in the slightest, and he sympathetically shared that he had never really had anything of his own. Harry could definitely sympathize with having to wear hand-me-downs, and took a little time talking about himself, something he had never done to anyone.

To his surprise, by the end of his account, Ron looked almost murderous, and spouted his anger towards the Dursleys for having treated young Harry the way they had. It finally brought some peace to Harry's mind, but he did find it a little funny that Ron was so furious. According to the other boy, it was appalling that mere Muggles would treat one of the biggest legends of the entire Wizarding World so horribly.

The reminder that quite literally everyone in the Wizarding World knew his name was intimidating, and Harry feared what that would mean at school. He had been ogled at enough in his brief outing with Hagrid at Diagon Alley, and it was not the best experience he had had. He pondered if his inadvertent fame would set up unrealistic expectations for him. Instead of talking about his state as a celebrity, he tried his best to shift the subject by asking Ron about the Houses at Hogwarts, wondering if he could provide more information to add to what Alice had told him, but getting instead a brief summary of the Weasley-Hogwarts family history.

"Oh, pretty much everyone in my family went to Gryffindor, though we might have a cousin here or there that went to Hufflepuff. No one from Ravenclaw that I know of, and definitely no slimy snakes, that's for sure."

"Snakes?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yeah, those Slytherin gits. Snarky little bunch they are, the nastiest for sure"

Harry was not very enlightened by this explanation, but it seemed safe to assume that Ron harboured an intense dislike of the House of Cunning, but he had absolutely no information to support or refute that particular opinion.

"What makes you say that?"

Ron turned to him, his blue eyes wide.

"Blimey, Harry! I'd think you of all people would hate the Slytherin more than anyone else! And you've got reason to!"

"But why?"

Ron looked even more surprised, perhaps even exasperated.

"Merlin's pants, Harry!"

Harry was beginning to get annoyed, as if he had been the only one let out of a big secret. Before he could voice this sentiment, however, Ron clarified his meaning in not the most subtle of ways.

"It's You-Know-Who's House!"

The ginger shuddered at his own statement, and Harry froze in his seat. He was going to the same school as his parents', but also the same as his parents' murderer. He was expecting to feel hatred toward the vile creature, but instead he felt fear. An intense feeling of panic rose in his chest, as if the criminal was waiting for his train to arrive and finish off what he had started. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear his mind. Desperate to change the subject, he quickly scanned their littered compartment trying to distract himself. The first thing he laid eyes upon was the rat Ron had brought with him, which was peacefully napping in a box of Every Flavour Beans.

"Nice rat" he commented half-heartedly.

Ron simply shrugged and picked the sleeping animal up.

"His name's Scabbers" he said. "He's Percy's old rat. Useless, he is."

He paused to examine the rodent, who slept on, undisturbed.

"Fred taught me a spell to turn him yellow. Would you like to see?"

"Of course!" Harry replied, genuinely interested. The few times he had seen magic, fully aware that it was indeed magic and not only his terrible luck, were amusing to say the least. He laughed inwardly at the memory of Dudley's tail growing out of his trousers, and how amazingly fitting it had been. Nonetheless, Ron's offer also made the dread resurface in his chest. People already knew how to do spells? How far behind was he? The only thing he had done so far was casting that fleeting golden glow when his wand had selected him, notwithstanding all the accidental magic he had done when he was younger.

Ron was oblivious to his musings, and produced a worn wand from the his jacket pocket.

"It's Charlie's old wand" he clarified "there's some unicorn hair coming out of the tip" he added, seemingly more to himself than to Harry.

The red-haired boy raised his wand over the still-sleeping Scabbers, and cleared his throat dramatically. As soon as he began bringing the wand down, however, they were interrupted by the compartment door being opened abruptly.

"Have you possibly seen a toad around? A boy named Neville seems to have lost his" said a short, bushy-haired girl with an annoyed expression on her face. She had the fullest and curliest brown mane he had ever seen, and was already in her school robes.

The boys were too startled to answer in any kind of way other than shaking their heads negatively. She looked disappointed for merely a second, and her eyes suddenly darted to Ron's hand, which still held his wand up in the air.

"Oh, you're doing magic?" she exclaimed, her eyes lit up. "Can I see?"

"Sure" Ron answered, not sure what to make of her excitement.

She hurried to the vacant space next to Harry, and looked at Ron expectantly, obviously eagerly awaiting a demonstration. The ginger once again cleared his throat loudly before starting again.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"

The girl's eagerness proved to be in vain, for absolutely nothing extraordinary happened. Scabbers was still in his brown-grey coat, and, most importantly, still asleep. Ron had a sheepish look on his face, which had turned to about the same shade as his hair. Harry was still staring intently at the rat, trying to find a minimal detailed out of the ordinary.

"That wasn't quite the spell now, was it?" she said, visibly disappointed, which caused Ron to turn even redder, if that was possible.

"I think his whiskers are kinda golden" Harry offered, trying to make Ron feel at least a little bit better about his obviously failed attempt.

"I don't think that was a real spell at all" continued the girl. "Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I have tried a few simple ones by myself, and I got some great results, at least so far."

Ron's ears were now red.

"Well, why don't you show us then?" he snapped angrily.

She raised one eyebrow and got her wand out of her robes.

"With pleasure" she retorted.

She immediately pointed her wand at Harry, who became cross-eyed trying to keep track of it, in absolute fear.

"Oculos Reparo!" she intonated.

Harry was even more startled when sparks flew directly at his eyes, or rather, his glasses. With a loud crack, the tape that held them together disappeared, and they looked new, as if Dudley's furiously chubby fists had never been around constantly. His jaw dropped, as did Ron's. The girl had a satisfied look plastered on her face. She nonchalantly put her wand back in her robes.

"I'm Granger, by the way. Hermione Granger. And you are?"

"Ronald Weasley" Ron muttered, still annoyed, but undeniably impressed.

"Harry P..." Harry began, before being once again interrupted by the door sliding open. A familiar voice filled the compartment.

"Hermione, have you found Trevor? Oh, hello, Harry!"

Alice stood in the corridor, her face peering into the compartment. She was also in her school robes, and had her dark hair in a high ponytail. He smiled at her, at once remembering her kind demeanor at Ollivander's.

"Hello, Alice!" he answered, genuinely happy to see a familiar face, even though he did not actually know her.

"Wait, you know each other?" exclaimed Hermione.

"Yeah" Alice answered, smiling brightly at Harry. "we met at Ollivander's" she clarified.

She then looked around their compartment and seemed to notice Ron.

"I'm sorry, how rude of me. I'm Alice, nice to meet you" she entered and extended her hand to Ron, who looked annoyed at the addition of another girl to their compartment, but who took it nonetheless and introduced himself as Ron Weasley. When he said his family name, she raised an eyebrow.

"Weasley? You wouldn't be related to Charlie Weasley, would you?" asked.

Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"He's my brother" he began, but then eyed Alice suspiciously "How do you know him?

Alice smiled brightly once again.

"I met him this summer in Romania, my grandfather took me to see some dragons. Your brother was one of the handlers, and he liked to answer my questions. He's very nice"

The only thing Ron seemed to have heard was 'dragons'. Harry was lost, and Hermione's mouth formed an 'O'.

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed.

"Dragons? You've seen real life dragons? Aren't they dangerous?" cried Hermione.

"Duh, of course they are. They're dragons"retorted Ron.

Alice only chuckled at their antics, and turned to Harry.

"If I were you I'd change into my school robes. We're almost there"

She took Hermione by the arm and lead her out of the compartment, while the bushy-haired girl sent Ron a glare. Before she left however, she did a double take and looked at the boys again.

"You haven't seen a toad hopping around by any chance, have you?"


	4. Chapter 4

Alice had been right: they had been almost at their destination when she and Hermione had left the boys' compartment. Harry and Ron only had a few minutes to change into their flowy black robes and stuff their pockets with the remaining sweets. The train came to a slow stop, and a voice, they did not know from where exactly, instructed them to leave all of their belongings in the train and make their way to the platform. The two stuck together as the throng of students filled the station. Soon, a familiar booming voice caught Harry's attention.

"First-years, this way! First-years w'me!"

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed as the giant came near them. The huge man looked down to greet them, earning a muttered "Brilliant!" from Ron.

"Hullo Harry, how ye doin'?"

Hagrid lead the first-years away from the station in an ill-organized line through a dirt path. He held a lamp in the air so that the students could follow him towards a great lake not too far away. There were countless little boats along the lake's margin, and in the distance, a great castle only discernible due to the lights from within, which gave it a magnificent, yet eerie appearance. The air filled with "oohs" and "aahs" from the mesmerized students.

"C'mon, four students per boat!" Hagrid bellowed, making the kids nearest him jump.

Harry felt a hand grabbing at his sleeve, and looked up to see Alice, who had Hermione by the arm, smiling at him and motioning for the boys to come with them. He nudged Ron, who shrugged, and the four of them made their way to one of the boats. A soon as they were all situated, the vessel slowly started gliding along the dark waters quietly, leading them in a straight line toward the fascinating castle.

"So, Harry, how was the rest of your summer?" Alice asked.

Harry smiled, having the impression from his few previous encounters, that Alice was the kind of person who particularly liked to start conversation, and he felt relieved he would not have that challenge with her.

"It was alright, I guess. How was yours?"

"It took forever to end!" she admitted. "I couldn't wait to come"

In the background, they could vaguely hear Hermione apparently prattling on to a very uninterested Ron about the extensive history of the famed school, as well as a complete synopsis of its creation and giving details about each of its founders. She seemed as knowledgeable in this subject as Ron was in Wizarding sweets.

"Are you still worried about the Sorting Ceremony?" Alice continued.

Harry did not know exactly what to say. His initial fears of not fitting into any House were not as great as when he had first met her, but a new dread had grown. What Ron revealed in the train was at the back of his mind, making feel uneasy.

"A little" he admitted. "What if I end up in Slytherin?"

Harry thought it unlikely for him to be selected for the House of Cunning, because he didn't exactly see himself as particularly cunning. He wondered if Alice, like Ron, harboured the same dislike for that House as Ron seemed to. He was surprised, however, with the hurt look that came upon her features as soon as he confessed his fear.

"What's wrong with Slytherin?" she snapped, clearly offended.

Before Harry could think of an answer, Ron scoffed loudly, interrupting Hermione's rapid speech.

"Please! What's not wrong with Slytherin?" he remarked, smirking.

Alice did not seem at all pleased with the comment. Her face paled, and she scowled at the ginger.

"Slytherin is a House as noble as any of the others." she said gravely.

Ron's blue eyes went wide. He scoffed once again.

"Are you joking? You-Know-Who was from there. Him and his crew of Death Eaters, snakes, the lot of them! Pretty much everyone from that place is a Dark Wizard!"

Alice seemed dominated by an intense, silent and cold fury.

"Not all of Voldemort's followers were from Slytherin. And as horrible and Dark and evil as he was, there's no denying he was one of the most powerful wizards of our age, rivaled only by Albus Dumbledore!" she hissed.

Harry gasped at this, and Ron threw his hands up in the air.

"Powerful or not, he was evil! Everyone over there turns out evil!" he almost shouted, attracting the attention from students from other boats. Before Alice could respond however, Hermione intervened with a bout of factoids.

"Wrong! Many other powerful and famous wizards were from Slytherin, like Merlin, for example. Also, there's Elizabeth Burke, a famous Arithmancy scholar, and former Hogwarts Headmistress. Also, Gaël Katarin, a world-renowned Potions Master, or Phineas Nigellus, a previous Hogwarts Headmaster, or Mary Stuart, one of the most famous writers of the past century!"

She said all that very fast, and the other three looked at her wide-eyed, momentarily forgetting what the discussion was about. Alice sent a death glare at Ron, who responded in a rather mature fashion by showing his tongue. Harry did not know what to do or what to say, and Alice turned away, staring at the approaching castle while Ron laid back against the side of the boat. Hermione went back to stating numerous facts about the place's history as if nothing had happened. Besides the bushy-haired girl, no one spoke until the boat had finished its way to the opposite margin.

All of the students got off their boats and followed Hagrid, who had needed an entire boat to himself, towards the huge entrance. The massive wooden doors opened slowly with a creak, and Hagrid led the students inside. Alice picked up her pace, and Harry impulsively followed her. Ron immediately went after him, and Hermione trailed behind. They were inside a kind of hall, replete with moving pictures and marble staircases and a great number of doors leading to who-knew-where. Harry did not have much time to process everything around him, for the group reached the foot of a grand staircase. An old woman with spectacles, long dark robes and a pointy hat awaited them at the top of the steps.

"The first-years, Professor McGonagall"

"Thank you Hagrid, you may go now. I will take them from here." she said. Hagrid's heavy steps echoed as he left the hall, the doors closing loudly after him.

The woman looked intently at the large group of students.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments you will pass through these doors, and join your classmates" she once again ran her eyes by every student, as if reading their expressions of eagerness, anxiety, fear and anticipation.

"Before we begin with the start-of-term feast, you will be sorted into your respective Houses. This is a very important ceremony, because they will be like your family for as long as you are a student here, and perhaps even beyond that. You will attend classes with your House, sleep in your House's dormitory, and spend your free time at your House's Common Room"

Harry was listening intently, not wanting to miss any kind of information. His attention was rivaled, and beaten, only by Hermione's, who seemed to drink in every word coming out of the Professor's mouth.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. All four have their own noble history, and have housed outstanding wizards and witches. While you are at Hogwarts, you will earn points for your individual achievements, while any kind of misbehavior may lose you points. At the end of the term, the House with the most points will have the great honour to be awarded the famous House Cup. I fervently hope each of you will be an asset to your respective House instead of a hindrance."

For one last time, she glanced at the eager students.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place shortly. I suggest you refine yourselves before I come back" she said, and left them to wait for her return in a bundle of anxiety.

Harry tried desperately to flatten his wild hair. Ron casually rubbed his nose with his sleeve in an attempt to clear away some chocolate he had managed to get there. Hermione was trembling in utter excitement, and Alice, a little further away, looked perfectly calm and collected, with only a glint to her deep blue eyes as an indication of her anticipation. Suddenly, a high-pitched voice came from somewhere in the crowd.

"So it's true, then? What they were saying back in the train? Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts this year".

Harry did not immediately notice where the voice came from, but instantly felt uneasy with the murmurs that arose from that proclamation. A slanky, blond boy made his way through the mass of students with two bigger boys at his back, going straight to Harry and standing one step above him, facing him.

"My name's Draco" he said. "Draco Malfoy"

Ron snorted gracelessly when he heard the boy's name. Draco snapped his head the ginger's way, with a deep scowl.

"Find my name funny do you? I don't even need to ask yours. Red hair, absurd amount of freckles, and a hand-me-down robe" he smirked and brought his hand to his chin "Must be a Weasley!"

Ron's face turned instantly to the same shade of his hair, which seemed to amuse Draco immensely. Harry had not even had the time to think of a proper retort when Alice's voice was heard.

"Let off, Draco. Don't start off the year on the wrong foot" she warned.

Draco scowled at her for a mere second before. Turning back to Harry.

"Soon you'll realize that some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort" he said, looking pointedly at Ron. "I can help you with that" he added, offering his hand to Harry.

Harry stared at the boy's hand briefly before looking up again.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort by myself, thanks"he retorted.

Draco scowled once again, but dropped the matter as McGonagall's returning steps were heard throughout the hall. The blond boy quickly made his way near Alice, followed by the two others.

"Come along, now" she said sharply. "We're ready."

The crowd of students followed her up the staircase towards another set of massive doors. McGonagall turned around to check on them before walking along as the doors opened. Harry was greeted with the most amazing sight he had ever beheld.

An enormous hall greeted the new-coming students, lit up by candles that were floating in the air. Four huge tables were arranged in pairs on each side, running along the entire length of the immense room, apparently organized by House. A passage between the two pairs of tables led to another table that was positioned perpendicularly to the others, elevated by a platform. There sat the teachers, side by side, and an old man with a long white beard and bespectacled eyes sat in the middle, on a magnificent chair. Harry at once recognized Albus Dumbledore. He could not contain a fascinated gasp as he glanced to the ceiling: it was as if did not exist, the starry night sky looked down upon them. Hundreds of students sitting at the long tables followed the newcomers with their gazes, some with curiosity, some with wide welcoming smiles. McGonagall led the first years up to the platform upon which was the teacher's table, and Harry could see a tattered pointy hat sitting on a three-legged stool. The professor came to a stop at the platform, and the crowd of new students did the same. She turned to them, scanning their expressions, and then took a thick rolled piece of parchment from her robes.

"When I call your name" she said, raising the parchment in the air "you will come forward and sit. I will put the Hat on your heads, and you will be sorted"

Harry frowned, but refrained from even imagining how that statement made sense. He figured that magic would offer an explanation, or, in this particular case, a demonstration. What he did not expect, however, was the Hat to start to sing, or for it to have a voice, for that matter.

(A/N: Actual song, _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_, Ch. 7)

_Oh you may not think me pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

It seemed that Harry wasn't alone in his surprise with the Hat's song. He heard a few gasps among the crowd, and his state of nerves only increased. He tried to focus on stopping his legs from shaking. As the Hat ended its song, McGonagall unrolled the parchment she held and picked up the Hat. She cleared her throat before calling the first name.

"Hannah Abbott!" she called.

A rosy-faced girl with blonde pigtails came forth from the crowd, stumbling on her way to the platform. She sat on the stool, and McGonagall lowered the Hat onto her head. After a few moments, the Hat bellowed, for the entire Hall to hear:

"HUFFLEPUFF!

The table on the right erupted into applause, Hannah almost skipped towards it, being warmly welcomed by her new housemates. A fat ghost hovering above the table also waved excitedly at her.

"Susan Bones!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Terry Boot!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Mandy Brocklehurst!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Millicent Bulstrode!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The process continued somewhat slowly, since the time the Hat took to make its decision varied greatly. Sometimes it had barely touched the student's head before bellowing their designated House. Other times it flaps creased as if in deep thought, and it mumbled and grumbled before announcing its final decision. Lavender Brown was the first one to be sorted into Gryffindor, and the table at the left welcomed her with cheers and applause. After a few more, Seamus Finnegan was also sorted into Gryffindor, and he ran down to the table decorated in red and gold and was received with joy. The sorting so progressed, and then McGonagall called out a familiar name.

"Hermione Granger!"

Harry knew he was not the only one to have heard Hermione's loud gasp. She wrung her hands together as she walked up to the stool, mumbling calming words to herself. Ron muttered some comment about the girl being completely "mental", and the Hat shouted off its placement, which was once again in Gryffindor.

The process was very repetitive, but then again, there were many students to get through. The hat hadn't even touched Draco Malfoy's slicked-back blond hair before announcing his sorting into Slytherin. Ron commented he was not surprised, and earned another glare from Alice, which went unnoticed by the ginger. Harry's heart began beating faster as the calling was approaching "P". The Patil twins were split into Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and some other girl went to Slytherin.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry's gasp was perhaps the loudest, because the whole Hall went silence as soon as his name was announced. He froze momentarily before having Ron nudge him in the right direction. Hundreds of eyes followed his uneasy steps toward the stool. McGonagall had a soft smile on her face, and, looking at the teacher's table, he could have sworn Dumbledore winked at him. He flopped himself down on the stool and felt the professor lower the tattered Hat down to his eyes. There was a moment of silence, then he suddenly heard a voice in his head.

"Aaah, Mr. Potter, a pleasure, indeed... Let's see what you bring to this school, besides your name and your fame..."

Harry had no way of knowing if the Hat was speaking to him alone, of if it could be heard in the whole Hall. He remained in silence.

"Hmm, what have we here? I see power, I see courage... There is unmistakable potential in you, yes there is... And you possess a thirst...a thirst to prove yourself"

Before Harry knew what he was doing, he found himself murmuring.

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, anything but Slytherin...

"Not Slytherin?' the Hat asked, sounding surprised. "My, my, what an idea. In Slytherin you could be someone, you could achieve greatness in this noble House" continued the Hat.

Harry felt the panic bubble in his chest again, and continued his chanting, almost begging for a different decision.

"You seem determined. Very well. If not Slytherin, then... GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry let out a breath of relief, and the Gryffindor table was nearing combustion. The excitement was tangible, the loudest cheers of the evening were directed at him, and the deafening applause did not die down until he was sitting next to Hermione, after having shaken a dozen or so hands. The table was exhilarated, and, though happy, Harry felt a little uncomfortable. He felt there were already some expectations for him, from his own House, and he was eager for approval from his classmates. He glanced at the crowd again, and Ron gave him a thumbs-up and a smile. He searched for Alice, and was surprised to see the forlorn expression on her face. When their eyes met, she quickly turned away, looking straight at the ceremony, which was still underway.

Harry was puzzled, but tried not to think too much of it. He welcomed other students to the Gryffindor table, and applauded accordingly. Then another familiar name was called.

"Alice Silivasi!"

'So that was her last name' thought Harry. He should have remembered it, for it was not exactly common. He noticed that the Hall had gasped in unison when her name had been called, but he did not know why. He glanced at Ron, and found the ginger with his jaw nearing the floor, as were some of the people around the tables. Alice walked up to the platform with her head held high, not responding to Harry's gaze, and briefly closed her eyes as the Hat was lowered onto her head.

"SLYTHERIN!"


	5. Chapter 5

**This has taken way too long, and I apologize. Life has been chaotic, and I already know I can't promise regular updates. I'm in the process of preparing to go to uni in another country, so I don't know how much time I can dedicate to this story. I WILL finish, though. It will just take a loooong while. We're just at the very beginning!**

The rest of the feast was almost a blur to Harry. He had never eaten so much and so well in his entire life: the food had magically appeared in his plate after a few announcements from Dumbledore, and it tasted absolutely divine. All throughout the dinner his Housemates would leave their seats and come greet him in person. His hand was sore from shaking countless of others, and though he appreciated the warm welcome he was still receiving from all of his fellow Gryffindors, by the end of the feast he was a little irritated. The first-years were led to Gryffindor Tower by none other than Percy Weasley, who insisted on puffing up his chest in order to show off his polished Prefect badge. Harry vaguely remembered some paintings pointing at him and whispering along the way, but so were the better part of his classmates. He was not bothered however, for his fuller-than-normal stomach made him incredibly sleepy. Percy led the new students all the way to the seventh floor. The group stopped in front of a large painting portraying a rather large woman in a pink silk dress. She turned her head to look at Percy and the students behind him.

"Password, please" she said.

"Caput Draconis" answered Percy promptly.

Harry and the others followed the prefect into a circular room, adorned with red tapestries and gold details. There was an impressive fireplace sending a warm glow, and many armchairs and tables placed around it. Percy made his way to the middle of the room and turned around to face the students.

"This is the Gryffindor Common Room, where you may work on your classwork, or just spend some of your free time. The boy's dormitory is this way" he gestured "and the girl's is the one opposite. The portrait passwords will change periodically, and will be posted on the bulletin board. Once you go up to your dormitories, you will find your belongings and schedules. I suggest you rest, you will have a full day tomorrow".

With that, the oldest Weasley went back out the same hole they had come in from. Harry and Ron went straight to the room they shared with three other boys sorted into Gryffindor that same night: Neville Longbottom, the one who had lost (and, apparently, found) his toad on the train, Sean Finnegan, and Dean Thomas. The boys quickly identified their belongings on the four-poster beds and went immediately into preparing for sleep. The three other boys were snoring within seconds of hitting their pillows.

"The food was brilliant, wasn't it, Harry" Ron asked with a yawn.

"It was pretty good" Harry agreed.

Ron failed to suppress another yawn.

"Can't believe I met a freaking Silivasi on the train! And she knew my brother, dad is gonna go nuts!"

Harry knew Ron was talking about Alice, but was confused. The students in the feast did seem surprised when they heard her name being called, though not as much as they were at his. Of course, Harry had absolutely no idea why, or why Ron was so excited when no less than a few hours before, he was having a full-on argument with the girl.

A pang of guilt shot through Harry. He now had an idea why she was so angry with them, or Ron more specifically, for making fun of Slytherin. Was it possible that she already knew where she was to be sorted? He had to ask her later. That is, if she would be willing to talk to him.

"Ron?" He began "About that. What was the big deal about Alice anyway?"

Harry could practically feel Ron's eyes going wide at his ignorance.

"Blimey, Harry, you're clueless, aren't you? Not that it's your fault, but anyway"

The ginger yawned again.

"I don't actually know a lot about them. They're an old wizarding family, and filthy rich too" he said with a sigh. "Older and richer than the Malfoys. They're from Romania, or some place in Eastern Europe. Actually that explains how she met Charlie! Bloody hell, he might have been handling their own breed! Wicked!"

That explanation did not help Harry much, but luckily Ron seemed to be in a talkative mood.

"That also explains why she thinks Slytherins are such saints. I bet all of them were from there. Stuck-up little bunch. Dad always says that family is an example, because they got really powerful when they came to Britain in...uh... Long time ago. Like Dumbledore's time, I guess."

"But how could she know where she would be sorted? I thought it was the Hat that decided." Harry asked, confused.

"Erm, more or less. I don't really know how that works, but some old families all go to the same house, like the Malfoys, and I bet the Silivasi."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his bed. Could she have known she would be Slytherin all along? Ron had made it seem totally plausible, but he would have to ask Alice herself later. He had made up his plans to try to talk to her again the first chance he got.

Soon Ron was snoring in his bed, and Harry lay awake, processing what had been without a shadow of a doubt the most amazing day of his entire life so far. I the span of this single day, he had gone from despair in a Muggle train station to hope in a magical castle. His bed was the most comfortable bed he had ever been in, and the sheets were warm and inviting, and he soon drifted off to sleep, thinking of red trains, hopping frogs, a talking hat and dragons. Lots of dragons.

In the end, the bed was a little too comfortable. On the first day, Harry woke up with Ron's shrieks and his frantic pulling of clothes from his drawers. He opened his eyes to find the ginger in his underpants and mismatched socks, trying to tie his tie properly. He did not, however, have time to wonder what on Earth was going on, because as soon as Ron's eyes met his, the boy bellowed:

"Bloody hell, Harry, get up! WE'RE LATE!"

Harry was off of his bed in a flash, putting on his school uniform with unimaginable speed. They had already missed breakfast, and Ron was loudly cursing the other three boys for not waking them up in time. A quick glance at their schedules informed them they had Transfiguration with McGonagall, and, as soon as they had picked up the correct books, they were racing down the stairs and along the many halls.

Of course, a sleepy first-year student with an empty stomach and the usual first-day jitters was not exactly an expert on how to navigate the immense school. Throw in some impish portraits and the boys were lost for a while, before stumbling into the Transfiguration classroom panting. Both breathed out sighs of relief when the austere-looking professor was nowhere to be seen. The only presence around her desk was a cat sitting straight-backed on it, watching the class intently.

"We're bloody lucky, that's what we are. Could you imagine McGonagall's face if she saw-"

Ron had no time to finish his comment, for the cat lunged at them, transforming into Minerva McGonagall right before them in the blink of an eye. The boys' mouths hung open in surprise, and Harry could not believe what he had just seen, a feeling that was becoming quite regular these days.

"That was bloody brilliant!" exclaimed Ron, then forcefully brought a hand to his mouth, as if he wanted to shove the words back in.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I trust you can find your seats?"

Harry was pleasantly surprised in class. He did not understand a single thing that was taught at first, and began to feel inferior to all the kids who had grown up with day-to-day wizardry. A quick look to his left, however, informed him that Ron wore the same confused expression on his face. Glancing around the classroom, Harry received quite a boost of self-confidence, because it seemed no one else in the class was understanding anything either. That is, no one except Hermione, whose hand shot up to answer the teacher's questions, even some rhetorical ones that needed no answer. The bushy-haired girl ended up gaining quite a sum of points for Gryffindor, and McGonagall's satisfied smile, something that Harry had the impression did not happen very often.

As Harry soon found out in the first couple of days, there were no English or Math classes at Hogwarts, though he was not surprised. If he was happy about it, however, was another story. He didn't understand anything in Transfiguration, nor in Charms, which was taught by the diminutive Professor Flitwick, who had to stand on a pile of books to see the class properly. Both Harry and Ron agreed that it was impossible to stay awake during History of Magic, which was taught by a Professor Binns, a ghost. Though Harry had seen ghosts around the school, such as Near-Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron, he had to admit that he had not expected to see one teaching. Harry was admittedly having some difficulties in the beginning, but then again, so were most of his classmates, many of whom, like him, had been raised in the Muggle world.

The classes were shared between the first-years of two Houses. Depending on which class they had, the Gryffindors would have the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins. So far for Harry, Potions with the Slytherins had been the absolute worst. It was taught by the Slytherin Head of House, Professor Snape, who seemed to have more than just a dislike of Harry. It seemed that the man absolutely despised him, though Harry could not fathom why. On the first day he had singled Harry out with a series of questions he had no way of answering, earning snickers from many of the Slytherins. Even with Hermione and Alice frantically raising their hands to answer, he never even spared them a look, staring directly into Harry's eyes with clear disdain on his face.

Alice. Harry had not had the opportunity to talk to her. He wanted to apologize for his wrongful assumptions. It did seem, however, that the majority of the Slytherins were not on the best of terms with Gryffindor. Harry assumed it was because of Voldemort, but he found out that, while the rise of the Dark Lord had certainly heightened it, the dislike had been going on long before then, and, when he asked, nobody was able to give him an explanation. It was a long-lasting vendetta, the original reason for which was eternally lost in time. However, it looked like Hermione and Alice specifically did not care much about it, for they were seen together a lot. Most of the time, the two would be partners in classes, or sit under trees reading or simply walking around the school. Alice was dividing her time between Hermione and the Malfoy boy. This was vexing not only to Draco, but to the rest of the school as well, even students from upper grades. Ron could not stop muttering about how shameful it was to have a Gryffindor fraternizing with "snakes". Harry had heard Draco calling Hermione names, though never when Alice was around. Still, Slytherins still hung out with Alice, despite saying all kinds of things about Hermione when her back was turned. Gryffindor House, ironically, was effectively shunning the girl.

Personally, Harry did not have anything against the bookworm, though she could be bossy sometimes. Even though he agreed that the majority of Slytherins were not generally good people, he saw nothing wrong with Hermione spending her time with Alice, who, as far as he knew, seemed incredibly nice. Hermione had even offered to help him with some of his homework, an offer he gladly accepted, earning a loud scoff from Ron.

It had been almost a whole month before Harry had the opportunity to talk to Alice. The Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years would be starting their flight lessons with Mme. Hooch. Ron had been delighted to explain that Wizards had their own favorite sport: Quidditch. However, all that Harry could grasp was that a team flew around on brooms chasing flying balls. Most of the time, Ron only complained that first-years were not allowed to try out for the school teams.

The students made their way to a grassy expanse near the castle, where two rows of brooms were laid out, evenly spaced. There were already a few students waiting, but no sign of Mme. Hooch. Among the students, Harry spotted Alice sitting in the sun, absorbed in a book. Ignoring Ron's rambling, he took purposeful steps in her direction.

"Erm. Hi."

Alice immediately looked up from her book, the frown on her face telling that she did not appreciate the intrusion. When she noticed him, however, her face lit up in a smile.

"Oh, hey, Harry. Long time no see."

"Yeah. What are you reading?"

She closed the book to read the title.

" 'Pride and Prejudice', by Jane Austen. It's a Muggle book, Hermione lent it to me. Do you know it?"

Harry thought it would not be the best idea to say how very few books he had actually read in his lifetime.

"I've heard of it" he said, truthfully "But I never read it".

Alice shrugged.

"I don't think you would like it" she stated simply.

Whyever not? Harry asked himself.

"Really?"

"Yup. I think it's too girly for you" she laughed.

Harry laughed along, a previously unnoticed tension slipping away.

"Can I sit?" he asked.

She looked unsure for a second, but nodded. The pair was silent for a few moments.

"Listen" he began, measuring his words. He didn't even know what he was actually apologizing for, but something felt wrong. "I'm sorry for... I don't know, this weird Slytherin thing. I think I had the wrong idea and it upset you. I didn't know you were a Slytherin. I mean, that you would be a Slytherin. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I just had a bad impression, I guess. I mean, the school is a little tense. By the way, how did you know? I mean, I thought it was random. Isn't it? I mean..."

"Harry" she interrupted "you're rambling"

Harry turned red. This was stupid. What was he even saying? Why would she care? Why did he care?

"I guess I am. Sorry." he said, turning his head.

To his surprise, she merely laughed.

"I'm not sure what you're apologizing for."

"Me neither" he admitted "I just don't understand this whole Slytherin thing with the other Houses"

Alice chuckled, albeit a little sadly.

"Well, let's just say that my House has acquired quite a reputation over the years. Not to mention the notoriety."

"Because of You-Know-Who?"

"Not only that" she explained "but a lot of other things. Different, aging points of view, a handful of Dark wizards, stereotypes, plus the Dark Lord... Let's say it's just difficult to shake all of that off. I mean, you see a few Hufflepuffs hanging with some Gryffindors and all, but not many people think it's a good thing to 'associate' with us. Take your friend" she glanced at Ron, who had directed his ongoing blabber to Dean Thomas "he's the norm in the school"

Harry nodded, even though he didn't quite understand it.

"But you and Hermione hang out together all the time" he countered.

"Yeah, but you think we don't notice how much people talk about us? I don't really mind it, but I know it kills Hermione. She's told me about it. She's incredibly lonely, because the people from her own House" she paused, then added "your House, only push her away for hanging with me."

Harry pondered the thought. It was true, Hermione didn't seem to ever be with anyone other than Alice. Though he didn't really do anything, he supposed being nicer to her couldn't hurt. He bet she could use a friend in her own House.

"But why? It's not like all Slytherins are like.. I don't know, You-Know-Who?"

Alice chuckled again.

"Really Harry? I know you don't really know anyone, but, off the top of your head, can you name or point three Slytherins that even 'seem' nice?"

"You" Harry blurted out "uh, and the girl in my Potions class next to Hermione, and this girl I met at Ollivander's" he continued, with a spurt of confidence.

"Unless you met another person at Ollivander's, I'm pretty sure those are all me. Thank you, by the way"

"You're welcome" he said, grinning cockily.

"I get it" he began "I think. I don't know anything, or anyone, but you Slytherins are a pretty annoying bunch. Especially Malfoy" he joked.

"Draco Malfoy is my friend" she said seriously, her brows furrowing together "but he is an incredible twat" she added.

"Really? I do see you guys together sometimes."

"Well, we were in nappies together, and our moms loved to gossip, or so I'm told."

"I don't like him very much" Harry admitted.

"He can be a real prick sometimes" she conceded.

At that, they heard the shrill of a whistle, and noticed the rest of the students were already there, as was Mme. Hooch, a grey-haired woman with her hair cut very short, and yellow, glistening eyes like those of a hawk. Ron looked at Harry with a puzzled expression, and Hermione waved at Alice, who waved back. Hooch stood tall and squinted at the students, hands on her hips.

"Go on! Stand to the side of your broom!"

Not waiting a second, Harry whispered a "see you later" to Alice and positioned himself next to the closest broom, standing between Ron and Hermione. As the students took their places, he noticed Alice and Draco standing right in front of him. For a moment, he locked eyes with Alice, who gave him a smile and turned her gaze to their teacher.

"Today we will be having our first flight lesson. For now, I want you to get accustomed with your broom. Raise your right arm over your broom like so, then say UP! Loud and clear!

Harry looked around and saw one of the most amusing things ever. Countless students were screaming at their brooms, most of which lay still on the grass, while others wobbled in place as if they could not decide whether to obey. Ron was furiously yelling at his broom, which wobbled incessantly. He glanced at Alice and Draco, whose brooms shot straight up to their hands and were grasped firmly by the smirking Slytherins. By his other side, Hermione's broom was levitating halfway up, while the girl calmly coerced it to continue. Harry looked at his immobile broom and hovered his arm above it. Feeling utterly ridiculous, he commanded his broom to go up in a soft, timid voice.

To his surprise, however, his broom was in his hand in the blink of an eye. Barely having the time to grasp it firmly, he fumbled with it, elated that he had actually done it in his first try. He could not stop grinning like an idiot. His amusement was only heightened when Ron's broom shot straight into the ginger's face, knocking him backward onto the ground.

"Shut it, Harry" Ron said as he got back up along with his broom.

It took a while before all students had successfully commanded their brooms into their hands. Hooch scrutinized them, nodding to the few who had accomplished the task almost immediately.

"Now"she bellowed "I want each of you to mount your brooms. Grip it tight! We don't want you sliding off the end!"

Still feeling a little silly, Harry followed her instructions. He noticed that many of the students seemed to be feeling like him, while others performed the task with ease, Alice, Malfoy and Draco included. Hermione, for some reason, was red and trembling. Mme. Hooch began describing what exactly they had to do in order to lift themselves from the ground, hover momentarily, then land smoothly. Something about pressure with their feet and the correct angles of their backs. Before Harry or any of the other students could actually try it out, however, a surprised gasp was heard from the Gryffindor row.

Neville Longbottom's broom had lurched upward, and the boy visibly panicked.

"What's it doing? Stop! Down! Down! Down!"

Mme. Hooch was obviously not amused. She yelled at Neville to get down.

"Mr. Longbottom, come down this instant!"

The broom ignored Neville's pleas, instead darting between the frightened rows of students, almost running over Mme Hooch, who jumped aside just in time. Neville looked terrified as the broom shot upwards and spun out of control, knocking some of the gargoyles of the edifices around to the ground. It went spiraling up to one of the towers, then jerked side to side before plummeting down.

The students gasped in horror as Neville fell to the ground with an audible crunch. Mme. Hooch was by his side in an instant as his deranged broom flew away into the distance. She crouched near the boy, who winced once she took his arm.

"Oh dear, you broke your wrist. Can you get up? Let's go t Mme. Pomfrey"

Whimpering, Neville slowly got up and limped by her side.

"I'm taking this young man yo the hospital. Stay on the ground. If I see another broom in the air, the person riding it will be expelled before they can say 'Quidditch'" she said angrily.

The students seemed to still be processing what had happened, and some had even let go of their brooms abruptly in fear. Hermione gently laid hers on the grass and walked away as if it was a sleeping beast. Harry noticed Malfoy walking up to the spot where Neville had fallen, crouching down and picking up a transparent orb from the ground. Harry recognized the object as something that Neville had gotten from his grandmother in the mail.

"It's a Remembrall. If that idiot had held on to this, maybe he would have remembered to land on his behind!"

A group of Slytherins around him laughed while Malfoy impersonated a terrified Neville.

"Give it back, Malfoy." Harry heard himself say, with confidence he did not know he possessed.

Draco turned around and gave Harry what seemed to be his trademark smirk.

"No" he simply stated. "I think I'll leave it somewhere so that Longbottom can find it"

He walked past Harry and snickered as he mounted his broom and pushed off the ground.

"How about the roof?" he said, going higher and higher.

Harry only hesitated for a second before mounting his own broom.

"Harry, you can't. You don't even know how to fly" began Hermione

"She's right. If you do this, you'll both be punished" added Alice.

He didn't listen. With unnatural ease, he pushed off the ground, albeit a little more shakily than Malfoy.

"What's the matter, Potter? Too high up for you?" taunted Malfoy.

"Give it back, Malfoy! Or I'll push you off your broom!"

Malfoy snickered.

"Oh really?" he countered.

Not really knowing how, Harry leaned his broom forward rapidly. Malfoy, however, was quicker, and flipped over his broom, avoiding Harry's outstretched hand in the last second. Harry managed to halt his broom a few feet away from the blond-haired boy.

"If you want it, Potter, go and get it!"

With that, Malfoy hurled the Remembrall with all his strength into the distance.

Once again having no real notion of what he was doing, Harry jerked his broom around and lurched forward with amazing speed, dashing by Malfoy, who looked extremely surprised at this new development. He saw the glint of the Remembrall flying in the distance, in a collision route with a window. His speed increased and he stretched his arm out, grasping the reflective sphere with a flip on his broom.

Cheers from his classmates accompanied him while he gently led his broom to the ground. Malfoy descended, looking surly, and Ron was next to hysterical.

"What the bloody hell! That was bloody brilliant! How'd you pull that off?!"

Harry simply shrugged his shoulders and gave him an honest answer.

"I have no idea"

Alice punched him in the arm.

"You could have been expelled! But that was really amazing! You're a natural!"

Ron scowled at Alice, but hurried to nod his silent agreement.

"Harry Potter?"

The students froze, since that voice did not belong to any of them. Nor did it belong to Mme. Hooch.

Minerva Mcgonagall stood with wide eyes before the group.

"Come with me, please"

Harry turned pale as soon as his eyes met the Professor's. That was it, he thought, as he followed her through the castle halls, trying to ignore the murmurs from the classmates he was leaving behind. A month in, and he managed to get himself expelled. He would go back to the Dursleys forever, and would never even hear of magic ever again.

The boy assumed his Head of House was taking him to her office so that he could receive his reprimand and unavoidable expulsion, plus a lecture on how all in the faculty expected more of him as The-Boy-Who-Lived. Therefore, he was surprised when McGonagall stopped in front of the DADA classroom, telling him to wait outside. He overheard the Professor ask Quirrell if she could "borrow 'wood' for a moment".

Before Harry's imagination could run away from him with pictures of spanking and other forms of corporal punishment, McGonagall resurfaced from the dark classroom with a burly, puzzled-looking older student in tow.

"Mr. Potter, I would like to introduce you to Oliver Wood" she began. Oliver smiled and extended his hand, shaking Harry's vigorously.

"Mr. Wood is the Captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Oliver, " she turned to Wood, who listened intently "I found ourselves a Seeker"she added.

* * *

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?" Ron yelled in the Common Room

"Ssshh!" shushed Harry. "Shut up!"

"A Seeker! What the bloo...In your first year!? That's against the rules! You must be the youngest seeker of...of..."

"Of the century, according to McGonagall" said Harry, feeling strangely proud.

"Bloody hell" wheezed Ron.

At that moment, the Weasley twins entered the Common Room, grinning like maniacs.

"So Harry"

"We heard the news from McGonagall"

"The youngest seeker"

"Of the century!"

"In Gryffindor!"

Harry was always confused when the twins talked like that, finding it hard to look from one to another that often.

"Fred and George are on the team" Ron clarified. "Beaters"

"Ah" Harry said, even if he didn't quite understand what that meant. He would meet with Wood later so that he could learn how to actually play the game.

"Not much that we do, except guarantee that you don't get your head smashed in by a Bludger"on of them said, Fred or George, Harry really could not tell.

The twins sauntered back out, still sporting rather suspicious grins. Harry felt afraid.

"Don't worry mate. You'll be great. You're a natural" Ron assured him.

"I don't know that. What if I'm complete rubbish?"

"You won't be" said a voice from a nearby couch. Hermione raised her head from the essay she was proofing and looked directly into Harry's eyes. "It's in your blood"

"What do you know" challenged Ron, visibly annoyed.

The girl huffed and got up, motioning the boys to follow her. Remembering his conversation with Alice, Harry jumped to keep up while Ron hesitated momentarily before following. Hermione took the boys to a glass case in the hallway near the Trophy Room. Smirking triumphantly, she pointed to something among the polished trophies and badges from years before. Harry squinted and looked for the particular item Hermione was pointing at. On a wooden platform sat a few shiny badges, but Harry's eyes immediately caught a familiar name. What it said warmed his heart, and it instantly made him smile with pride.

_SEEKER_

_James Potter_

_1970_

"Harry, why didn't you ever tell me that your dad was on the team?!" Ron almost yelled in surprise.

"I didn't know" said Harry honestly.

The group stared at the shining metal for a few moments more, before Ron exclaimed.

"Hey, look! Silivasi's dad was a seeker around the same time!"

Harry and Hermione turned their heads to look at the badge Ron was pointing at. Along with other trophies and badges in an area dedicated to Slytherins, there was indeed a similar badge to that of James Potter's, with the word SEEKER and the year 1968 emblazoned around "Catalin Silivasi"

"How do you know it's her father?" Hermione countered. "It could be an uncle. Or even her mother or an aunt, with a name like that!"

"His father probably knows" said a voice in the darkness. From the shadows emerged Alice, holding a pile of books under her arm.

Ron scowled, something that was becoming quite common whenever Alice, or any other Slytherin for that matter, was around.

"And what are you doing sneaking around here, snake" he spat.

Alice merely shrugged before responding.

"Wipe that scowl off your face, Ronald, or it's gonna stay like that forever. Trust me, it isn't cute."

Harry couldn't help but snort ungracefully, earning a glare from Ron.

"So" he began, trying to steer the conversation "is that your dad?"

Alice walked towards them, Ron making a big show out of getting out of her way. She glanced at the badges for a few moments, looking a little nostalgic.

"Yeah. That was my dad" she said wistfully.

"Cool" Harry said. "What does he do now?" he asked, desperate to get rid of the awkward silence.

Apparently, that was not the right thing to say. Alice's features froze, and her jaw went rigid.

"He died in Azkaban, a convicted Death Eater" scoffed Ron disdainfully.

Harry felt his face go pale, and Hermione let out a little gasp. Harry knew what a Death Eater was, and had a faint idea that Azkaban was a ghastly high-security prison for Wizard criminals.

Alice turned to Ron, her eyes had grown dark, and her voice menacing.

"Yes. He died when I was four or five" she confirmed, her tone icy enough to make Ron swallow uncomfortably.

"Was he really a Death Eater?" Hermione blurted out in a small voice.

Alice turned to her, her expression hurt.

"Yes. He was. Now, if you'll excuse me" she began.

"Was he any good at Quidditch?" Harry blurted. He could hear Ron slapping his own forehead, and Harry was aware of how stupid his question was. No, Potter, he was totally rubbish. His name is only here because it was Opposite Day.

However, Alice seemed to appreciate his not so subtle method of changing subjects.

"He was pretty decent, if I may say so"

"Maybe our dads played together when they were students"

She grinned.

"They probably did. Funny, Slytherin did win the Cup three times in a row right around then"

Harry thanked the heavens his pathetic attempt had worked, somewhat. Though they were still on the father topic, the ground of discussion seemed to be a little safer.

"I think I'll have to help rectify that" he said, completely aware that he sounded extremely cocky.

"We'll see, youngest seeker of the century. Practice, because next year, when I'm on the team, you'll eat straw" she challenged, clearly amused with the banter.

"Sorry for interrupting" said Ron, not really looking sorry "but we better get back to the Common Room"

With that, he began to walk away. Harry mouthed a "don't mind him" to Alice, before trying to catch up with the ginger. Alice and Hermione walked behind, talking about books.

"Bloody hell, mate, it's scary. She knows more about you than yourself"

Harry knew he was talking about Hermione.

"Well, who doesn't?" he observed.

"But I don't like how that Alice talks. 'When I'm on the team...' blah, blah, blah. Doesn't she know she has to try out? Why do you even keep talking to her anyway?"

"She's nice, and I've met her before, at Ollivander's. I told you" Harry said, growing a little impatient.

"But she's a Sl-!"

Ron was brutally interrupted by the sudden movement of the stairs the group was on. Alice nearly dropped her books, and Hermione gasped in surprise, while Harry held onto the rail in fear.

"What's happening?!"

"The stairs" Alice began

"They change!" reminded Hermione.

The stairs jerked side to side before settling onto a passageway they had not noticed before.

"Let's get out of here" Harry said, alarmed.

"Before the bloody stairs change again!" Ron added, exasperated.

The four climbed the rest of the marble staircase, skipping steps in their haste. They made it to a massive door leading to another corridor. Harry pushed it to let themselves in.

They were immediately greeted by darkness and stale air. Before they could even see anything, the door closed itself with a loud bang.

"Where are we?" asked Ron.

His only answer was a torch being magically lighted by their presence. Cobwebs and dust were everywhere, giving an eerie feel to the corridor in the torchlight.

"We shouldn't be here" said Alice "this is the third floor! We're not allowed here!"

No one answered immediately. Instead, a faint, drawled meow echoed through the corridor.

"Mrs. Norris!" the four gasped in unison.


	6. Chapter 6

**So, I hate this chapter. But I decided to post it anyway to get it over with. You'll probably notice I may have stretched some things by the end here. But this is fanfiction, so I think I'm allowed a little manipulation, right? I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

More torches at the end of the corridor began to lit up, and the group could swear they heard the heavy shuffle of the school's creepy caretaker, Argus Filch. In silent panic, the four ran as quietly and as quickly as they could in the opposite direction, having absolutely no idea whether there would be an exit nearby. Harry finally saw a door, and turned abruptly to the side, followed by the other three.

"In here!" he exclaimed, reaching for the hatch, rattling it in despair, only to find that the heavy door was locked shut.

"It's locked!"

"We're done for!" whimpered Ron.

"Gosh, get out of my way!" said Hermione impatiently. She pushed the boys from her way and took her wand out of her robes, pointing it to the hatch.

"Alohomorra!" she said, with clear confidence.

A miraculous click was heard, and she swung the door open. As soon as they were safely in, she closed it gently, looking out of the keyhole for any sign of Filch or his wretched cat. They heard his steps down the corridor, and a few more meows from Mrs. Norris. After a few moments, it seemed they were out of reach.

The four of them sighed in absolute relief.

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Ron.

"That was close" agreed Hermione.

"Why in the name of Merlin's underpants was the door locked anyway? Good thing you knew that spell, Granger" the ginger said, obviously relieved enough to talk loudly.

"Oh, trust me, Ronald. They had a good reason" whispered Alice, her voice trembling.

Harry turned his face from the door to where Alice was looking. At first he didn't actually see anything. He heard something. Breathing, to be exact. Once his eyes were accustomed with the darkness, he could see one, two, no, three pairs of glistening eyes. Eyes that belonged to three massive dog heads, which in turn were attached to a gigantic dog's body, with paws bigger than the students' heads. Each mouth opened slowly, revealing scary sets of white teeth. A low, resounding growl paralyzed the four kids in fear.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHH!"

Screaming was probably not the best of ideas, since it made the animal lunge towards the frightened students. Luckily enough, Hermione still had her hand on the door handle, which allowed her to swing it open once again, giving them a passage out of the way of the beast's sharp-looking teeth and murderous eyes. They closed the door behind them and locked it once again, feeling the monster collide with the heavy wood and hearing its multiple jaws snapping in fury. They ran back to the way they had come, forgetting all about Filch and Mrs. Norris. The stairs were still where they had previously stopped, and the group dashed down, not looking back to the dark forbidden corridor.

They were back near the trophy room when they finally stopped to catch their breaths.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT?!" yelled Ron

"Shut it, Ronald!" spat Alice

"Shut it? Are you kidding me? Didn't you see what was in there?"

"Trust me, Ron, I think we all did" said Harry, breathless.

"Why would they put a monster like that in the school? What, by Merlin's beard, were they thinking?" continued Ron, on a furious rampant.

"Don't you use your eyes? It wasn't there without a reason. It was standing on a trapdoor." said Hermione, seemingly more collected than the rest of the group.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was a little busy looking at its THREE HEADS other than its bloody feet!" spat Ron, exasperated.

"Hermione's right" added Alice. "It's not there for nothing. It's guarding something. And, by the looks of it, something pretty important"

"What could it be?" pondered Harry.

"Who the bloody hell cares!? It had three heads! THREE!"

"We're well aware, Ronald. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the library, then back to my dorm" said Alice

"I'll go with you to the library" said Hermione. "And you two" she added, pointing to Harry and Ron "go back to the dorm and try not to do something that could get us killed. Or worse, expelled!"

Alice waved a goodbye to the wide-eyed boys, who turned to go to the Gryffindor Tower.

"She needs to sort out her priorities" muttered Ron, as they made their way upstairs.

* * *

Classes went on, as hard as ever. Harry found that he quite liked Charms and DADA, though he had to admit the latter was a hard class to follow, not because of the level of difficulty, but because of Quirrell's stutter and his apparent fear of almost everything he taught them. He had started to talk as little more with Hermione, who was happy to help him with classes, causing his grades to improve, particularly in Potions and Transfiguration. To his surprise, he found that although she was by far the most intelligent person in pretty much all his classes, she, like him, had been raised by Muggles. Only in her case, she was apparently the first and so far only witch in her family. Her parents were dentists, and she loved to read, though Harry could have guessed that last part on his own, as she was almost always carrying massive volumes from the library, where she could be found half the time with Alice.

To Ron's deep disapproval, Harry continued talking with Alice. It was, however, a frustrating mission, as when she wasn't with Hermione, she would usually be with Draco Malfoy, whom Harry thought to be the most infuriating person he had ever met. It seemed inconceivable that a person like Alice could be around a prick like Malfoy.

"Well, Harry, they're Slytherins. And frankly, it's not like you really know her. They have known each other since they were babies. So my guess is that she's more like Malfoy than you think" said Ron in one occasion.

Harry was a little tired of Ron's attitude concerning the Slytherins. He did agree with it for most of the students from the House of Cunning, especially Malfoy. But Alice did not fit in that particular profile. She was with Hermione a lot of the time, so that was something. Harry had commented that Alice was doing more for Hermione than the people from Gryffindor. Ron was quickly up to defend their House's "policy against fraternizing with snakes".

Regardless, Harry and Alice talked whenever possible, and funnily enough, he found that people in Gryffindor were not shunning him as they were Hermione. He wondered if his fame had anything to do with it, and was disgusted for a while with the petty attitude. Still, it did little to dampen his spirits, since he found that he seemed to fit in nicely in the school.

Often he and Alice would read together in the library, something that Ron would never do, even if Alice was not involved. They talked very often, and knew a little bit more about themselves. He was surprised that she, like Ron, was furious when he talked about the Dursleys. He learned that like his, both her parents were dead, though he tactfully did not mention her father again.

Both Alice and Ron had gone to great lengths to explain him the wonders of Quidditch, before and after his lessons with Oliver Wood, who had been absolutely ecstatic with his apparent skill at capturing the snitch. It was the one topic Alice and Ron would agree on, except on the teams they supported. They shared a great deal of views and opinions about many individual players that Harry had not the faintest idea about. The two would go to great lengths, often flailing their arms in excitement, to describe various historic plays, and were unable to be contained once they got on the subject of brooms, and had nostalgic looks on their faces describing their flying adventures over past summers.

"What positions do you usually play?" asked Ron excitedly

"My grandfather made me try every position, he's a fanatic" said Alice

"Wow! I like playing keeper, but there's only so much I could do on my ol' Cleansweep..."

"My grandfather had this crazy idea to teach me how to fly on his vintage Silver Arrow when I was about five or six..."

"Wow! Really?"

"Worst idea he ever had. I fell, broke my arm, and the broom was never seen again!"

"Lost forever?! A vintage edition Silver Arrow?"

They would bicker for hours on end, and, just by listening, Harry learned quite a bit about the rules, some famous players and teams. Ron apparently supported the once-glorious Chudley Cannons, while Alice supported the Montrose Magpies in the UK, and the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria, where she had learned to fly. The discussions concerning teams were the longest, and the ones Harry followed the least. He had been practicing with Oliver every week, riding the Cleansweep in the best condition the school could provide. While Wood was happy with Harry's skill, he had this maniacal look in his eyes when he talked about his dreams of winning the Quidditch Cup, and how big of a part Harry would have to play. Fred and George had not helped much, scaring him with gory stories of broken limbs and smashed heads, as well as seekers that disappeared for months.

Besides Quidditch, with either Alice or Ron, there would always be room to talk about what they now referred as "The Dog Incident". Each would take turns trying to figure out what exactly the dog was guarding, but each guess seemed wilder than the one before. They had gone through unimaginable riches, the final exams (which sparked Hermione's interest in the conversation), another monster, a secret playground for the teachers or a secret branch of the Ministry of Magic, but nothing seemed plausible.

At the end of October, their guesses were pretty much going nowhere. Ron was in a foul mood because of a bad grade in Potions, and was not exactly looking forward to Charms, the homework for which lay forgotten somewhere in the Gryffindor dorm room. Today, they were learning a simple levitation spell. Professor Flitwick had arranged white plumes on the desks of all the students and described the necessary wand movements and the correct intonation of the spell.

As it was common for first year classes, no one really got it right on the first try. Harry waved his wand absentmindedly, partly aware that his movements did not really resemble the ones that Flitwick had just described in minute detail. Hermione was arranging her feather and waving her wand, moving her lips without really saying anything, like she was practicing a speech. Ron, on his part, waved his wand back and forth furiously.

"Wingardium Leviosah! Leviosaaa! Windargium Leviosah!"

Hermione huffed in frustration and grasped his arm to stop his angry gesticulation.

"Stop! Want to knock someone's eye out?" she whispered impatiently. "Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Levi-oh-sa, not Leviosah."

Ron's face got red and his lips tightened into a frown.

"You do it then, since you're so smart!" he exclaimed, frustrated.

Hermione simply glared at him, then turned to the feather resting on her desk. She cleared her throat and said evenly:

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

To the surprise of the class, and Ron's chagrin, the plume levitated immediately, drifting calmly in the air. Flitwick was ecstatic, awarding once again a generous sum of points to Gryffindor.

* * *

" 'It's Levi-Oh-sa, and not Leviosah!' What a nightmare" mocked Ron as they made their way to the Great Hall. A few boys in their group laughed along him, while Harry stayed silent.

"She's mental, I tell you. No wonder she doesn't have any friends" he added.

The laughs were interrupted by a whimpering mane of brown hair angrily bumping Ron on the shoulder. His face went pale and he stammered something unintelligible.

I think she heard you" said Harry.

It wa Halloween, and the famous Hogwarts feast was in full swing. In vain, Harry had looked for Hermione in the library and the Common Room. He had hoped she would be there during the feast, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Neville" he called to the boy in front of him "have you seen Hermione?"

The boy shook his head in denial, but added:

"Patil said she spent the afternoon in the girls bathrooms, crying"

Harry nodded in understanding. If it meant anything, Ron did not feel very good about what he had said, though he tried to drown his remorse with copious amounts of food. Harry was trying to enjoy his Pumpkin Pasty when, almost comically paired with the magically created thunder inside the Hall, Quirrell appeared from the massive doors running, screaming and flailing his arms about, a look of sheer terror in his face.

"Troll! In the dungeons! Troll! In the dungeons!"

There was a moment of silence in which Dumbledore stood, his eyes wide behind his spectacles.

"I thought you needed to know" breathed out Quirrell, before collapsing onto the marble floor.

The panic that ensued was immediate. Students started screaming in horror, leaving their dinners and stumbling on each other trying to get out of the Hall. Ron dropped whatever sugary delight he was eating and tried to untangle himself from the horde of students trying to leave the Gryffindor table at the same time.

"Silence!" bellowed Dumbledore, his voice magically amplified, effectively capturing the attention of the students.

"Prefects! Lead your classmates to their Houses. Teachers- come with me."

Calmer, but still terrified, the students followed their respective Prefects, with Percy in particular spitting out instructions for the Gryffindors to hurry up. Suddenly, Harry felt someone grasp his arm tightly. He turned, startled, to see Alice, who went by unnoticed in the Gryffindor mob.

"Hermione!" she whispered, and Harry immediately understood.

"Ron!" he called "Hermione! She doesn't know about the troll!"

Ron didn't answer, but his face formed a weird expression, a funny mix between fear and remorse. The ginger nodded and followed the other two students who slipped from the student throng without being noticed.

"She's been crying in the bathrooms all afternoon" Alice said as they almost ran in the direction of the girls' lavatory on that floor "she wouldn't tell me why though."

Ron gave Harry a guilty look, but Harry shrugged it off, following Alice's lead.

"How can a troll get out?" he pondered out loud.

"Dunno" muttered Ron "They're generally pretty stupid. Someone must have let that one out as a joke or something"

"They're stupid, but dangerous" said Alice, not looking back to face the boys "Especially a Mountain Troll. They're gigantic and extremely strong".

They were about to turn to the lavatory when they were stopped by the sound of immense feet thundering and dragging on the floor, paired with loud grunts. Alice stretched out her arms, impeding the boys from going further.

"It's the troll!" she whispered

"He's left the dungeons!" observed Ron, making Alice roll her eyes.

"And it's going to the girls' bathroom!" exclaimed Harry.

The three witnessed in horror as the troll fumbled with the door for a few moments, barely containing their gasps when the enormous creature entered the bathroom. They were frozen in fear for a few moments, silently hoping for Hermione not to be there anymore.

In vain, their eyes widened as they heard a scream coming from the bathroom.

"HERMIONE!" shouted Alice, dashing over to the bathroom, immediately followed by the boys. They heard crashing sounds and breaking porcelain, as well as gushing water. Alice swung the door open abruptly, rushing in and colliding with the creature's behind. The troll was distracted for a few moments, enough for Harry to spot Hermione crawling from under a sink among a pile of debris, seemingly unharmed. The beast's attention, however, turned back to Hermione, and it swung its huge mace downward, barely missing the terrified girl, now crouching under another sink that was not destined to last for long.

"Hey! Pea-brain!" yelled Ron, hurling random pieces of debris at the troll, who seemed almost unbothered by the action. It turned to face them, however, giving Alice just enough time to dash past it and reach Hermione. The movement, however, startled the troll, shifting its limited attention back to the girls. It swung its mace behind its back, ready to strike.

On impulse, Harry seized the opportunity and ran up to the creature's back, grabbing onto the mace as it made its way upward. He landed on the troll's shoulders, which was distracting enough to make it miss its target once again.

Fully aware that there was something on its shoulders that was not supposed to be there, the troll started to jerk and jolt its body in every direction possible, then attempted to reach behind its back to try to shake Harry off. The boy held on for dear life, but not for long, as the creature finally got a hold of one of his legs, effectively yanking Harry off and dangling him upside down.

To their terror, the mountain troll tried to hit Harry with its mace multiple times, dumbly and miraculously missing every time, but getting dangerously closer to smashing the boy's head in. At the last swing, Harry could already see his short life flashing before his eyes. The troll brought its arm down with force.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"

The shouted spell came from Ron Weasley, and worked just in time. The mace was still in the air, and the troll unceremoniously dropped Harry to the ground, confused. Its attention turned to Ron. In a flash, it lunged toward the frightened ginger in fury.

"IMPEDIMENTA!"

This time the spell came from Alice. The four watched in wonder as the troll stopped in its tracks, seeming to freeze, or move extremely slowly for a few seconds giving Ron the time he needed to get out of the way by jumping aside. As both spells started to wear off, however, the mace that was still in the air came plummeting on its head. The giant beast wobbled for a few seconds, its glazed eyes rolling to the inside of its skull, finally collapsing sideways on the ground.

Harry dusted himself off as he got up, staring wide-eyed at the creature.

"Is it dead?" asked Hermione, her hands shaking.

"I don't think so" replied Harry "just unconscious."

"Bloody hell!" sighed Ron, flopping down on the only toilet that was not in a million pieces.

"Are we all alright?" asked Alice, warily.

The other three nodded.

"Bloody hell" repeated Ron, directing his eyes toward Alice "How do you know the Impediment Jinx? Fred and George haven't even learned that yet!"

Alice shrugged her shoulders and gyrated her long wand between her fingers.

"My grandfather's taught me a few more advanced spells. But I've only ever tried this one with a bee in mid air, I had not idea if it would work on something so huge..." she answered, looking down.

Before any of them could say anything else, they heard steps coming from the corridor, followed by Minerva McGonagall's gasp of surprise upon seeing the sheer chaos she encountered. Professors Snape and Quirrell were by her side, also taken aback with the scene before them.

"Wha-Oh my goodness! Explain yourselves, all of you!" she exclaimed, clearly exasperated.

They stammered trying to find a mutual agreement, a mutual excuse or story to justify what the bloody hell had actually happened there. Harry's mind was once again filled with images of his own expulsion and the grim future that awaited him at the Dursleys.

"It was my fault, professor" declared Hermione, surprising the other three with her blatant, and frankly absurd lie.

"I had read about Mountain Trolls before, and I thought I could take this one on my own. If it weren't for those three... I would probably be dead"

McGonagall looked like she was about to faint for a few seconds. She then seemed to compose herself a little before berating her favorite student.

"Be as it may, I would have never expected such Reckless behaviour on your part, Miss Granger. I am most seriously displeased! Five points will be taken from Gryffindor, for your serious lack of judgement" she spat, even though such a ridiculous reduction did not exactly mirror her apparent fury.

"As for you three" she said, turning to the rest of the entourage of troll-hunters "I just hope you realize how incredibly fortunate you are. Not many first-year students could take on a fully-grown Mountain Troll and live to tell the tale. Five points each..." she paused "will be awarded to your respective Houses. For sheer dumb luck." with that she departed, her robes flowing behind her.

Snape glared at the students one by one, focusing on Alice for a while longer than leaving right after McGonagall. Harry could not help but notice a rip in his robes, where there was some blood visible, and his pointed limp as he swaggered away.

"Y-y-you sh-sh-should p-probably go. He-he might w-wa-wake up-p" stuttered Quirrell, motioning for them to go.

The four exchanged a look and a smile of relief. The three Gryffindors made their way to their tower, while Alice slowly strolled to the Slytherin dungeons.


	7. Chapter 7

**Short chapter just to get things going again after a ridiculous absence. But I've just gotten settled at Uni in another continent, so my writing had to go on break. I still don't know how often I will be able to post, as I'm not entirely sure how my schedule goes. **

Following the incident with the troll, a new, developed group emerged in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Four students had cemented a friendship with something only taking down a fully-grown Mountain Troll together could explain. Harry, Ron an Hermione were inseparable within Gryffindor House, and Alice was now present most of the time. Though Ron's acceptance of the Slytherin was merely cordial, it relieved the previous strain a simple talk could have caused. The relationship between the two was still unstable, unless the subject was Quidditch. With an impending "friendly" match against Hufflepuff, they would overwhelm Harry with game narrations, tips and warnings against potential pitfalls.

"I wonder if you'll be this helpful to him when we play Slytherin!" joked Ron, half-seriously.

"This year, I don't really care. It will be awesome if Slytherin wins, but I'll live if Harry catches the snitch first" said Alice, shrugging her shoulders in indifference.

Although it was merely a friendly match to break the ice, Harry was extremely nervous. He had done extremely well in the practice sessions with Oliver, who guaranteed they would achieve good results. However, Wood made it seem like it all depended on Harry, and the boy was aware of how much pressure there was. Everyone expected the Boy-Who-Lived to deliver a glorious game, and Harry was not sure if he was up to it.

"You'll be fine, Harry" Hermione reassured him "And even if you mess it up completely, I'm sure it will be alright, you're the least experienced player on all the teams"

Needless to say, Hermione's words were not exactly comforting. On the day of the actual match, Harry's stomach was practically doing some somersaults, making him feel nauseous and not have much of an appetite.

"Come on, mate, you gotta eat something" said Ron, nudging Harry's elbow toward his untouched eggs and toast.

"Ron's right, Harry. You'll need your energy today."

"I'm not hungry, Hermione."

Alice walked up from the Slytherin table and stood awkwardly next to the three Gryffindors, earning a few stares from the rest of the student body. Ignoring them, she turned to Harry with a severe look in her eyes.

"Eat. Now. It won't do if you fall off your broom. I have a bet with Draco. He bets you won't last five minutes. I said you'd catch the snitch in half an hour. Galleons are at stake here, Harry!"

The thought that people were betting on the game was not very reassuring either, but a desire to prove Malfoy wrong was a pretty good incentive, even if Alice was probably making it all up to make Harry feel better, so he absent-mindedly took a bit of toast.

Suddenly, in the crowded Hall, an owl screech interrupted the students' breakfast. A snowy white owl carried a long package in its beak. It flew straight to the Gryffindor table, and released the package with a loud bang, splashing pumpkin juice everywhere.

Harry reached for the package and the letter attached. He never received mail. Who was this from? His three friends were also puzzled, as it was not even mail time. Harry opened the letter first, and was immediately glad that he did so.

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE_

_It contains you new Nimbus 2000, but I don't want everybody know you got a broomstick or they'll all want one. _

_Oliver Wood will be waiting for you for a quick training session before the game._

_Good luck._

_ Minerva McGonagall_

Thanks to Ron and Alice always talking Quidditch for hours on end, Harry could afford to be properly impressed. He had some idea of what exactly was sitting on the table in front of him. He waited for a few seconds as the two fanatics read the letter from over his shoulder. Three, two, one...

It was immediate. Alice and Ron gasped and reached for the not at the same time. Their mouths moved, but didn't make a sound. Meanwhile, Hermione had no clue what was going on with the two, who at this point had started jumping in place in sheer excitement. Not being able to wait any longer, and chucking Harry's need for energy out the window, Alice grabbed him by his sleeves while Ron took the parcel with nothing less than veneration in his eyes. Hermione huffed and followed the three out. As soon as they turned a corridor after exiting, Ron and Alice finally burst.

"BLOODY HELL! You've got a broom! You've got a Nimbus! 2000!" huffed Ron

"Looks like it" said Harry, thoroughly amused.

"Harry, we've talked about this for ages" added Alice "we've always said how this broom would be freaking perfect for a Seeker."

"I don't see what's so special about it" said Hermione "isn't it just a broom?"

Even Harry knew that was the wrong thing to say. Especially in front of those two.

"Hermione, how dare you say that!" snapped Alice

"Just a broom?! JUST a broom?!" Ron said, in complete disbelief. "Don't listen to her" he continued, patting the broom as if Hermione had just hurt the feelings of a little child. "She doesn't know what the bloody hell she's saying"

Harry's morning had just gotten a lot better.

"It is not just a broom. It is used by professional athletes. Its superior design, speed, looks, and overall craftsmanship make it..." explained Alice, trying to find words.

"A work of art!" completed Ron satisfactorily, earning a nod of approval from Alice

Hermione rolled her eyes in defeat. If there were one thing in which Alice and Ron were thick as thieves at, it was Quidditch. It was probably the only subject that allowed for the two to actually have a more than cordially polite conversation, usually going around the enthusiastic levels.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" said a deep voice from the corner they had just turned, startling them. The teens turned to see none other than Severus Snape, almost hidden in his long black robes, his beady eyes staring directly into theirs from above his characteristic nose. None of the four answered, the Gryffindors especially feeling nervous by default with his creepy presence.

"I hope today's match proves to be good practice to a more...worthy adversary, Mr. Potter. Good luck" he continued mysteriously, limping in the opposite direction.

Harry looked at the retreating man's back until he had turned the other corner, finally out of sight, and, hopefully, earshot.

"That explains the blood" he said cryptically, after analysing the man's laborious steps.

Ron and Hermione turned to him wide-eyed, but Alice nodded.

"So you've noticed it too?" Alice said.

"What the bloody hell are you two on about?" Ron complained.

"In the bathroom, after the troll" Harry began "Snape's leg was bleeding"

"He's been limping around ever since. I don't know about many things in the school that could hurt someone that badly, except..." Alice continued.

A look of comprehension dawned on Ron, but Hermione looked skeptical.

"You think he went to that three-headed dog? That's ridiculous, why would he go there?" she pointed out.

"Wasn't the dog standing on a trapdoor?" questioned Alice.

"He could have gone and tried to get whatever the thing is guarding..."

"Harry, that's absurd. Stop talking about it, you have to meet Wood!"

Realizing Hermione was right, Harry rushed to the Quidditch pitch, where Wood and the rest of the team would probably already be waiting for him. Yet, the thought of what Snape could have gone to the monstrous dog for still nagged at his mind.

Harry left his friends as they went to the stands, going straight to the locker room, where he found the Gryffindor team already dressed and assembled, with Oliver impatiently pacing the area with his broom over his shoulder.

"Harry!" he exclaimed "Where were you! What have you got there? A broom?"

As soon as Harry revealed McGonagall's unannounced gift, the whole team erupted in cheers of surprise, amazement and anticipated happiness for a victory Wood now was practically sure of. Instead of practicing, however, all in the team took turns flying around the pitch, ecstatic with such a professional broom in their midst. In the end, Harry was the last one to actually fly his own broom. When it was finally his turn, he would only have a few minutes to get used to the incredibly fast broom before the game.

Although it was indeed easier said than done, flying the Nimbus 2000 was almost too easy, in the boy's uneducated opinion. It was like the broom was reading his mind, he thought, as he did some smooth curves and descended, to then jerk up again. Harry had no difficulty in controlling the broom, and he even experimented its flawless and rapid acceleration, zooming past the other Gryffindor players, who cheered and clapped as his sleek broom zipped through the air effortlessly. The easiness of control gave Harry a lot more confidence than he had anticipated.

As game time approached, more students came into the pitch, filling the tall stands with excitement. Although it was merely a friendly game in order to get everyone ready for the season, there were banners and painted faces, a beautiful array of colors representing Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The Gryffindor stands were a mess of red and gold everywhere, while Hufflepuff's were an intermittent arrangement of gold and black. Harry noticed that the Slytherin and Ravenclaw stands were a mixture of the two, with a lot of gold, and random red and black patches, which made him wonder why the Houses could not be like that normally. He was reminded of Alice and Ron, who disagreed on everything except Quidditch. Maybe the sport was an unionizing force in the Wizarding world. As he flew around a bit more, experimentally, he noticed Alice waving at him from the Slytherin stands, red and gold stripes painted on her face, and Hermione's Gryffindor scarf around her neck. He waved back excitedly, especially after noticing Malfoy's annoyed face by her side. Draco seemed to not have picked any sides, probably thinking himself above the playing teams.

The Hufflepuff team was assembled at the other side of the pitch, and Harry momentarily locked eyes with the other House's seeker, an older student whose name he had forgotten, with a confident look. They nodded to each other, and Harry felt his arms tremble, wondering how he would do against the other player. Alice's bet with Draco came to his mind, and he smiled to himself.

On the opposite side of the Slytherin stands, he saw Ron and Hermione, also waving at him, with Hagrid by their side, more on the back so he didn't obstruct the view of the other spectators. Ron and Dean held a red banner that said _Potter 07_ on it, which made him feel a little silly. Hermione did not have any paint on her face, but she did have a red and gold hat, plus a pair of Muggle binoculars.

The familiar thrill of Mme. Hooch's whistle was heard, and Harry took his place in the pitch as Oliver had taught him over the past weeks. His arms were still trembling a little in anticipation as Hooch draged the chest containing the game's balls. She mounted her broom and looked up to the players, squinting her eyes.

" I want a clean game, you hear me?!"

She then kicked open the chest. The two Bludgers shot up into the sky, followed by the Snitch, which took its time swirling around the Seeker's heads tauntingly. Mme. Hooch took a last look at all the players, then picked up the Quaffle, shifting it from hand to hand before throwing it upwards.

What happened next was a blur to Harry. Chasers from both teams swarmed to get possession of the Quaffle. Fred and George flew away in opposite directions, brandishing their heavy bats menacingly. When he looked back, he realized that the Hufflepuff seeker had disappeared in thin air, and he started to panic as he remembered what Oliver had drilled into his head during their training sessions.

" Harry, whatever you do, never, EVER lose sight of the other seeker!"

Cursing to himself, Harry started to circle the pitch trying to find his adversary, or, just in case, the snitch itself. He fantasized about finding an unassuming snitch calmly drifting in the air, just ready for his hand to grasp. Of course, he wouldn't fool himself into actually hoping for that to happen. If all he had done with Oliver had taught him anything at all, it would be that the Snitch was a devious little thing. Every time they practiced, it would be incredibly difficult to find the damned thing, but finding it was only half the job. Catching it proved to be twice as difficult, and though Harry had done well in practice, the reality was that the Hufflepuff Seeker was a lot more experienced. Nonetheless, Harry had vowed to do his best, so he scanned the area in search of his goal.

Harry faintly heard goals being announced, Gryffindor winning 30-20 at the moment. Oliver, however, had instructed him not to be distracted by the narration, but to focus on catching the Snitch as quickly as possible.

" We need to startle them. Tell the school we mean business" he had said.

He finally located the other Seeker, who so far had had about as much luck in finding the treasured winged sphere. Harry followed him from above, without being noticed, keeping his eyes sharp for the prize. A few minutes passed uneventfully, with both Seekers restlessly looking for their goal.

Harry then noticed something. It didn't even look solid, but more like a reflection of the sun's bright rays. It resembled a vibration in thin air, and it was right above the Hufflepuff's head. Harry gasped in surprise, quickly wondering how to act next. He assumed he could rapidly dive for it, for his broom was certainly faster. But if the adversary seeker noticed it, all he had to do was raise his hand above his head and have the snitch without much effort. At that point, the cheers and boos from the stands seemed to disappear, and the boy barely took notice of the other players zooming past him, blurred spots of red and yellow robes in the air. Harry then took a decision, which was to risk it.

When asked later, Harry would never be able to explain what the bloody hell he was thinking, nor where the overload of confidence had originated from to tr such a bold move. All he could explain was that he looked straight ahead and flew rapidly past the other seeker, startling him. The Hufflepuff then raced to catch up with him, to whatever the youngest Seeker of the century had seen.

The problem for Hufflepuff was, there was nothing to see. When the other seeker was about to catch up with Harry, the latter jerked his broom backward, and dashed back in the direction they had come from. The Snitch was still around the same area, and before the other could even fathom what in the world had happened, Harry's fist clenched over the golden sphere.

" AND POTTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! Harry Potter caught the Snitch! Diggory totally went for Potter's bluff! Merlin this is exciting! Gryffindor wins, 190 to 30, what a game!"

Harry shook his fist that still imprisoned the Snitch, for the first time decidedly proud of himself as his teammates cheered and flew over to hug him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Professor McGonagall punching Snape repeatedly on the shoulder, undoubtedly chanting infernal I-told-you-sos. They Gryffindor stands roared in triumph as Harry was smothered by an ecstatic Oliver Wood.

" I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! We're so winning the Cup this year!" He chanted, euphoric.

The rest of the day was a blur of hugs and chanting, and Harry felt extremely happy. Ron seemed to have gone completely insane with euphoria, and even Hermione gave him a hug and a legitimate congratulations. On the way to the Common Room, the team carried him up the stairs, chanting his name.

"That was wicked, Harry. Best game I've ever seen. Can't believe Diggory fell for that!" exclaimed Ron, after the ensuing party had subsided.

" It was quite a bold move" said Hermione, without looking away from her book.

" See?! Even Hermione agrees, and she doesn't know squat about Quidditch!"

Hermione looked offended.

" I know a good deal about Quidditch" she defended herself "I just don't get why people are so in love with it, is all. It's just a sport".

Ron's jaw almost hit the floor, amusing Harry immensely.

"Just a sport?! JUST a sport?! You wound me, Hermione. I'll talk to Alice, she's gonna do a better job educating you."

" Oh yeah" Harry remembered "What about that bet with Malfoy? Was it even real?"

Ron simply shrugged his shoulders, but Hermione finally glanced away from the thick volume she was reading, grinning evilly.

"It was real indeed" she said, smirking "and I could bet that Malfoy is just eating himself right now."

"Why?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. Just you, catching the snitch on the 29th minute."


End file.
